Binary
by SawyerBeerSlayr
Summary: So... perhaps true love and magic are both less and more powerful than we'd like to think? And life every bit as complicated as it needs to be. I own nothing Frozen except my assets and I have lawyers working on that. Canon-ish Elsa/Seriously AU Anna, the usual Frozen crowd, one or more OCs.
1. Prologue A: Death

**Author's Note:**

This story seems too crazy to even try and explain. Elsa/AU Anna. Definitely non-Canon. Elsanna, yes, probably. Whether or not any Elsanna in this tale counts as incest I leave to others to care about - it's definitely not my focus or intent.

Before I forget: other languages later in the story are Norwegian and Esperanto courtesy purely of Google Translate so yeah they probably don't make sense, apologies to offended native speakers of either. I suck, mea culpa.

 **Story trigger warnings:** Character death, angst, violence, laughter and love.

A.

* * *

 _ **Prologue A: Death**_

"Kristoff?"

Thank _God_. Relief flooded through her as she made out his distant form. The blizzard had stopped but the cold inside her was getting worse by the second. _Oh no_ , her hands…

 _Wait, that sounded-_

"Elsa?"

Elsaelsaelsa. Hans. Sword. Oh, Lord, SWORD! She looked back at Kristoff. The decision barely took a blink, just long enough to realize that it wasn't an actual choice. She'd never had a choice. Elsa was like gravity.

Moving was horribly hard, thinking even harder. _Run._ One last thing to do. _Be useful, for once._ Protect her. Worth it, for her. The pain was a little less now, things were… clearer. Yes, always worth it.

" _NO!_ " _You will NOT hurt her._

The sword looked beautiful against the sky, glittering, deadly, cold. Cold like everything else. It was coming down, slowly, why so slowly?

 _Please, God, don't let this hurt._

A thrumming, pulsing shockwave. A sharp ripping sensation, darkness.

xxxxx

Something moved in the void. Gradual awareness of a gentle kaleidoscopic shift, the darkness dissolving slowly into runs of color, swirls of sound - music. Sense of self creeping back in time with the light. The music, beautiful, washing all around her, her whole being filling with it. It felt so familiar. It felt green. It felt like the heat of the sun on a hot day. It felt like… her.

And no pain. Actually, she felt pretty good. Not cold at all, _finally!_ Man, she hated the cold. She held up her hand – what a relief; it looked normal again, all the blued frost covering it was gone. She grabbed a braid—still white. _White?_ Pure white, luxuriant, strong and healthy.

After a time, impossible to say how long, the chiming colors began to thin and fade until she could see the world around her. She was right where she'd been, but…

Wait. This was confusing. She could remember the sword, and then…?

Hans was sprawled a few feet away, dead or unconscious, his sword lying, blade shattered, on the ice behind him. Kristoff, Sven and Olaf were a short distance off staring at her with horrified expressions. Did she look _that_ awkward? The hair? Was there something on her face? Ugh. What-

No one was moving. _Nothing_ was moving.

She spun around, Elsa had been on the ground right behind her—

If she were granted a single wish to use in her entire life, she'd have used it instantly to unsee the expression frozen on her older sister's face.

"Elsa! I'm OK!" She crouched down and reached out. She needed that expression gone, she needed to smooth it away. "I'm okay, I'm fi— _WOW!_ " There was a sharp _spang_ of color and sound as her hand touched Elsa's face. The shock caused her to lose her balance and fall backward onto the ice.

Fall backward, _through_ something, onto the ice. She looked up.

 _Oh. Oh—no._

Statue-her looked really scared. And really frozen.

Like, solid.

And really, really-

Dead.

 _Dear God._

xxxxx

Nothing moved. She'd watched a hovering snowflake for what felt like hours and it hadn't shifted at all. The comforting colors and music that had surrounded her earlier were gone. There was no sound at all. Her body looked and felt completely solid to her but it just passed like smoke through everything and everyone who wasn't Elsa – Kristoff, Sven, Olaf, even jerk-face Hans. She'd fallen again when she'd tried to give him a kick in the side, so she'd contented herself with pettishly stomping on – or rather, through – his toes. He somehow managed to look smug even all splayed out. Looking at him made her so mad, she couldn't even decide if she hoped he was dead. Then she realized that if he were, he'd probably show up _here_. Ugh. Stuck in for-never with _him_? She left him alone after that.

Time passed, and didn't. There was no way to tell. She spent a lot of time sitting beside Elsa, just looking. Ignoring the awful expression as best she could, examining this person, this stranger that she'd barely ever seen. It felt a bit creepy to just stare at her, but hey. If she actually _was_ dead and, as she was starting to suspect, doomed to be a ghost, it was probably part of the job description. Every now and then, she'd try to touch her sister, always with the same result. A zap, a tingle and something pushing her hand away. It didn't hurt, but nor was it very pleasant. The pushing-away part felt depressingly familiar. And, she suddenly realized, it might be hurting Elsa. So she stopped that too.

It was maddening. When she tried to go and see if things were any different at the castle or in town she got so weirdly uncomfortable that she had to turn around and come back before she'd gone past the nearest iced-in ship. It felt like something in her chest and head was being pulled backward harder and harder with each step. Which just made no sense. So she tried it again. And again. Each time the discomfort grew with every metre she moved away from her frozen statue-self.

Even walking over to where Kristoff stood, with his also-horrible-though-not-as-bad-as-Elsa's expression, made her feel a bit off.

Eventually, born of sheer boredom, she had a thought. She stomped over to where Kristoff was standing, closed her eyes and concentrated on the pulling sensation. Then she started to walk, feeling how the pull altered as she moved. It was the only thing that changed in this God-forsaken time-frozen world, maybe it could tell her something. Maybe there was a path? Maybe like an invisible maze, a puzzle for the newly-dead. A test? She concentrated. Step. Step. Left. Step. More left. _OK… getting better… better…_

 _Bonk_. "Sor— yikes!" She'd bumped into Elsa, rewarded with another sparking _zing_.

 _Ugh, wow, I'd really like to drape something over her face. OK that's a horrible thought. Way to be a horrible person, Anna._

She took a deep breath.

 _OK, do it again, this time without crashing into anyone._

She walked a short distance off in the other direction. She closed her eyes, spun herself around a few times for good measure and concentrated, following the pull.

 _Bonk_. _Zing._ "Argh! SorryElsasorry—"

 _OK, hang on a minute._

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes again and, with a shudder, stepped inside her statue-self. Standing inside her own frozen body creeped her out but she had to admit that her ghost-insides felt not too bad. The tug, however, was still there, albeit gentle. She eased toward Elsa. _Better… better._

 _Zing._

Huh. She wasn't anchored to her statue after all.

xxxxx

Everything kept on not moving. Anna had no idea how long it had been. Hours? Days? She'd cried herself out God knows how many times. She'd tried to amuse herself with everything she could think of. She'd run out of patience umpteen times, losing her temper and storming about, swearing, using words that she wasn't supposed to know, words she'd been taught were guaranteed to send her straight to Hell – like she wasn't there already. She'd cursed until she ran out of combinations, then invented new ones. She'd yelled and shaken her fists at the sky. She'd prayed. She'd begged. She'd collapsed dramatically into a heap of inconsolable princess at least three times. _Nothing_ worked. Everything around her remained exactly one hundred percent indifferent, immobile and immovable.

She couldn't even sleep. Apparently, ghosts didn't get tired.

Eventually she found herself lying on her back, staring up at the ugly grey sky. She couldn't summon the will to move – what was the point? The misery was still there inside her, somewhere in her gut, but by now mostly she felt numb. Not numb as in cold-numb – she didn't feel at all cold, or hungry, or thirsty - but just sort of blank.

And bored out of her _mind_. If only she'd packed some playing cards. Or anything.

 _I'm alone, trapped in an empty space with no one to talk to. Forever. This is exactly like it was at home._

The sudden conviction that the afterlife was going to be an eternal re-hash of her empty, lonely life violently banished the boredom. Maybe they couldn't sleep, but apparently ghosts _could_ hyperventilate.

xxxxx

Her options for doing anything that caused something to happen boiled down to two. She could walk around, feeling better-or-worse, or she could sit beside Elsa and get odd zingy sparks whenever she tried to touch her. Her interest in either activity had pretty much paled.

The other thing she could do, of course, was talk. For the first time in forever, Elsa was, like, _right here._ Kind of. At any rate, this time her sister couldn't slam a door in her face. Or create a snow monster to toss her out before - presumably - slamming a door in her face. Furthermore, Anna was uber-experienced at talking to things that didn't talk back. Plus, as always, it looked like she had lots of time to kill. She decided to just think of Elsa as a type of unfortunately-sculpted Joan.

She got comfortable on the ice beside her sister, sitting as close as she could without zinging, but angled so that she didn't have to stare at that expression. For a few moments she was at a loss for what to say, but after a while the words started to flow. Then, it was easy.

"Hey, Elsa. I'm almost totally sure you can't hear me. But, just so you know, well, here I am and I'm not leaving. OK, actually, I guess I _can't_ , because time seems to have stopped, so I guess don't get a medal for that. Anyway, I'm still here and we're going to talk, like it or not, since you're fresh outta doors. _Ha!_ So there."

"Anyway… Where to start? I mean, yeah, so… my day – or whatever - hasn't been all that great – not that yours was any better, of course. Just to bring you up to speed, I'm pretty sure I'm a ghost – I've got white hair and everything – not that white hair makes you a ghost, I mean you have white hair but you're totally solid, like a rock, not that you're heavy or fat, more just like a statue, a really freaked-out statue with this crazy awful expression you couldn't pay me a million kroner to carve—oh, uh. Wait, let me start again."

xxxxx

"So, look. I'm trying to see the bright side in all this. _Not_ easy, but hey, it's me, right? So… ok, sure I'm a ghost. I still feel pretty much like myself, though, which is good. I don't know what the rules are, but I'm happy I didn't go the bedsheet-with-holes route. Awkward and unflattering. Being a ghost, though, I figure that might not be so bad. I mean, there are all those stories of helpful ghosts who haunt places, right? You know, that sort of look after and protect their loved ones and so on? For example, if they had unfinished business. And yeah, I feel pretty unfinished-businessy right about now. First thing on my list is to punch Hans in the face. After I give you a big hug without the zaps, so ok, second thing is the punching."

"And, hey, if you lock your door, I can just float right through it. I totally will, too, you know. Unless you were getting changed or in the bath or something, that would just be inconsiderate. Right, we're going to have to figure out a way for me to knock."

xxxxx

"Hey. Sorry I wandered off there. Rude, right? Walking helps me think. Seems I have _lots_ of time for that – thinking, I mean. Anyway, I've been trying to make sense of our growing-up, now that I'm _finally_ in the loop about the whole ice powers thing. It really doesn't make a lot of sense to me yet. Near as I can figure, the only reason you got locked away had to have been something about your powers and me, specifically. Everyone else in the castle was allowed to see you _sometimes_. What I can't figure out is, what did I do? I must have done something when we were really small but I just can't remember. It's all muddled up. Something seriously bad. I must have set you off somehow. I mean, that makes sense, right? I set you off at the coronation and up in your ice castle. You kept freaking out and running away like I was a lit match and you were a bucket of whale oil. Oh, God wait— _not_ whale anything, gah, sorry! _Tinder_ , yeah. Elegant, willowy classy white tinder. Which is a pretty good analogy, I guess? Better than the whale thing, anyway."

"So maybe everyone was just trying to prevent Snowmageddon by keeping us apart? But it can't just be about being _near_ you, like if I had some kind of built-in power-setting-off… uh… power. That doesn't make sense, because at the coronation everything was ok up until we fought. I was _right_ beside you the whole time and you didn't kaboom, though you did seem tense. Ugh, I'm still confused."

xxxxx

"Hey Elsa! I'm back. I had an epiphany. I think I figured something out. Maybe it's kind of obvious. OK, so - you have powerful, inexplicable, possibly dangerous magic powers, right? What's a common reaction people have to things that are powerful, inexplicable and possibly dangerous? Like, how would people feel about, say, a flying invisible bear? OK, bad analogy. Even just a plain old bear, then. Not that you're bearish. Right, you guessed it. Fear. It's all about _fear_."

"You got scared at the coronation when I got in your face, and boom! Then again when I chased you at your ice palace you went full freak-out and another boom! It's like you can't control the power when you're panicking. I know you can control it sometimes – when you built your ice palace I bet you weren't scared and it's perfect! It's amazing! No, everything bad happened when you were scared. And you only got scared when I tried to get near you, talk to you."

"Which means… you're scared of _me_. I _did_ do something to you. All that talk of me staying away for my own protection makes sense now. Because I terrify you and then it's the kaboom."

"Why can't I remember? What did I do? Oh Lord, Elsa, what did I _do_?"

xxxxx

"I just realized something horrible. I did something when we were small and it made you terrified of me, so, yeah, naturally you tried to get away, keep yourself safe from me so you wouldn't accidentally end the world. So what do I do? _Every_ day I sat right outside your door, trying to _get to you_. It must have petrified you, like a… like a shark swimming by off the pier every day on the off chance you'd be in the water. Oh, that's an awful image. I did that to you for _years_. I _tortured_ you for years. Oh my God, Elsa. I'm s-so sorry."

"I-I'm gonna s-shut up. Uh, actually, I'll just… go, f-for a bit. Yeah."

xxxxx

"Hey. Sorry it's been awhile. I guess. I don't know anymore. I've been terrified to talk to you. I mean, what if you can hear all this and you're still scared of me? Then I'm just torturing you again."

"It's just that I'm starting to go crazy. I know I am. I don't get hungry. I don't get sleepy. I have nothing to do except think. I've been talking to Kristoff a bit, you know, to give you a break. He says hi, by the way. You two never got properly introduced. He helped me a lot. He's an ice-cutter. We were discussing alternative employment for him if this winter thing of yours doesn't let up. He figures firewood delivery, which I think is pretty darn savvy. Yeah, ok it was my idea."

"We spent a fair bit of time together, these last couple of days, what with all the running around and running away and falling and rescuing each other from almost dying. Before actually dying, of course. I like him. He's good people."

"Oh, which reminds me – you need to remind me later to tell you about the trolls. Real trolls! Wow! They were way less human-eatery than I expected, which is good."

xxxxx

"But _anyway_ , when I look at him now… I like him, maybe a lot but – I'm just not sure, y'know? Maybe he was the kiss I was supposed to get? I mean, the trolls said true love's kiss would thaw my heart. After the Hans fiasco, I figured it was Kristoff. But what if I'd been wrong again? Then the kiss wouldn't have worked, which makes me feel much better about getting between you and Smirky McFaceHair instead. Ugh. Can you imagine if I'd run the other way and it was a dud? First off, you'd be dead, which I'm not even going there. Second, I'd probably have frozen solid while kissing Kristoff and I'd have a stupid pucker for all eternity plus he would have for sure frozen to my lips and we'd have needed a bucket of hot water to get him off."

"So, yeah. All around, it could have been worse. Amazingly enough."

xxxxx

"I guess it's this tugging feeling. It keeps pulling me back to you. Weird, eh? I feel really good when I sit right here. I honestly don't feel like fighting it anymore. I just have to hope it doesn't make you scared, or bug you."

"I would give my soul just to see you blink, not kidding."

xxxxx

"I've been thinking again. Go me. Not that I've had a _lot_ of life experience, but I'm sure it's safe to say that this is pretty much the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Thing is, though, if this _hadn't_ all happened, you were just going to shut yourself away again. You even said so."

"Given the situation I guess I can tell you now. Uh - I had decided to try and leave if you did. Yeah. I mean, I was still going to fight you on closing everything up again, but… well, let's face it. You'd pretty much won. A few more closed doors and I would have been done. It's why the whole Hans thing, right? Which I'm so incredibly sorry for I can't even tell you. But in my defense I only had _one day_ for plan A, to meet someone special who could get me the heck out. If that fell through, Plan B was going to be harder, sneaking out, getting far, far away and taking my chances on my own."

"And I know I could have done it. Plan B, I mean. Lord knows I'm used to being on my own."

"But the thing is, being alone _isn't who I am_ , Elsa. Can you even understand that? It never seemed to bother you at all. Being alone _destroys_ me. I love people. I love laughter, shouting, noise, whatever. I love _life_. This place, right here, right now, is the perfect hell because I'm ALL ALONE!"

"So I had to leave. It was that or continue dying like I've been dying - slowly - for thirteen _years_ , Elsa. Ironic, eh? My trying to find a way out so I could live, ending up dead instead because of it. But you know what? Better fast than slow. It didn't even hurt. So what if I finished the job in one day? It's a total win, actually. You don't have to be scared of me anymore. Now everyone can go back to getting on with things and I can just end and good riddance."

"OK, I'm sorry, wow, that got bitter."

xxxxx

"I've had to fight off a lot of bitterness over the years and I hate it. It's not me. I always tried not to let the bitter stuff stick, but sometimes it did and then letting it go wasn't easy. But I think mostly I've succeeded. Seriously, it's not who I am."

"But, yeah, it was hard, sometimes. You said maybe fifty words to me in the thirteen years before today. A lot of those were 'Go away, Anna.' What's really sad is that I can't remember you clearly anymore from before the 'go away' stage. I imagine we talked more then? Maybe we played? I _guess_ it was nice? Those memories were a long time ago and they've always felt muddled. Sort of… gappy. They're pretty much lost now."

xxxxx

"Here's a thing. I've been thinking some more about what happened today – whatever - and about what led up to it. And you know what? I loved Mom and Dad. But I might sort of hate them now. Like, a lot."

"It really was all about fear. Something happened and they dealt with it by locking you up when you were _eight_. Because you had amazing ice powers that scared _them_. What kind of parent does that? In what parenting book is something as idiotic as _that_ Plan A? Like, where is it written down, "Parenting Rule 42: In the event that your child has awesome supernatural abilities probably tied to her emotions, make sure to shut her away so that she experiences as few normal human interactions as possible and learns to be afraid of _everything_."

"The really criminal part is that they made you believe _their_ fear. Soon it was _you_ locking yourself up. Oh… it makes me so mad. I wasn't exactly right in what I said earlier. It wasn't just me. Thinking back on it, Mom and Dad kept you away from everyone as much as they could. It was like you were a… volcano that could erupt at any second. And yeah, you're powerful, Elsa, I get that. But I saw your ice palace. No evil powers could make that. Only something and someone beautiful and good. The storm, all the bad stuff? I got that part right. They're your _fear_. Fear that you were _taught_. It's not like you were born afraid of yourself. When we were small, I don't think you were afraid."

"Even after whatever happened, if anyone had asked me if I'd be willing to risk your powers to be with you, what do you think I would have said? I'd have been beside you in a heartbeat and I never would have left. I could never be afraid of you. Even now. You _killed_ me and I'm not afraid of you. I would have protected you. I would have kept you safe and shown you how not to be scared."

"But they didn't let me. Mom and Dad insisted on some crazy illusion of safety at the cost of everything. No one can tell me that what they did was the only way. It was _insane_. I would have stopped the fear before it got to this. _We_ would have stopped it. God, who knows what we might have had?"

"But instead we have _nothing_. You want to blame someone for today, Elsa? Don't blame yourself. Blame them. They destroyed our family, out of fear. They hurt you, made you so afraid of what you can do, when it's so beautiful. They set the stage for this. They turned you into the tinder and they turned me into the match."

xxxxx

"I'm looking at your face right now and your expression is the worst thing I've ever seen. Seriously, you should see yourself. No wait, you shouldn't. It's _awful_. Except for one thing that I've realized while we've been talking. It's this: no one would look that way if they didn't care about what was happening. If they didn't care about the other person. It isn't a "she's frozen, ugh that's amazingly gross" look. It's not even a "wow, I am a horrible person for freezing her" look. Though I bet you'll get there soon enough. No, to me it looks like a "something horrible just happened to someone I care about" look. And that's nice to know. Bit late, but really nice. I can't remember a time when I didn't just figure you hated me."

"What I don't get, though, is why? Why do you still care about me? We've shared _nothing_ for almost our entire lives except hurt. I look at you and I see a stranger. You don't know who I am and I know who you are even less. So why do I still love you so much? Why don't I hate you? I thought I did for a long time, you know. Hate you, I mean. But I don't. Yeah sure, you're my sister, but there's no rule that says sisters have to love or even like one another. I don't get it. All I get, Elsa is that, despite everything, I love you."

"To heck with it, I'm gonna kiss you on the cheek. Hold still. _Ha._ I crack myself up. _HA_. That's funny too, not really."

 _Zing_. " _OW_. _MTHR-DRNIT._ "

"O Gret. Now eh cnt fl meh lipz. Yr _sch_ a jrk."

xxxxx

"It was going to be different than this, you know. My _actual_ dreams of the future, hey newsflash, they weren't this. What I wanted… uh. What did I want, specifically? Well, what I wanted first, _obviously_ , was to be with you. To spend as much time as we could together. We would catch up and, you know, do stuff. Explore the town, the whole kingdom even. You'd run the country, Queening away like mad and you'd be excellent at it, _obviously_ , and I'd give you all sorts of really good advice and protect you from anything bad."

"My best dream is where we'd each have found a husband we really loved and they liked each other too and they were sensitive but not too needy and didn't snore or were all hairy – especially back hair, that's a thing, make sure you check - and smelled nice and had _great_ teeth and they'd live with us here in Arendelle, the four of us all together – no way was I leaving you to go off to some dumb other kingdom. And then we'd start having babies. Oh, Elsa, we'd have had lots and lots of kids and we'd be aunts and uncles and moms and dads all together and the castle would have become this huge playground and the servants would always be quitting because of the crazy and there would never be an empty or silent room in our home ever again."

xxxxx

"This is the longest I've been able to just sit with you and look at you and talk and I wish you didn't have that awful look on your face but you do and if you can hear me you _have to_ not blame yourself but you will and I don't want you to. Remember, you aren't the monster in the story, Elsa. So hey, if I can be a haunty ghost I can at least float around and yell at you whenever you're blaming yourself."

"Yep. I've made my decision. I'm gonna haunt the heck out of you. In the nicest possible way, of course."

xxxxx

"I _have_ to introduce you to Joan. You two are, like, stoic-sisters or something."


	2. Prologue B: Angel

_**Prologue B: Angel**_

After what felt like forever plus another forever there was a new sound in the emptiness. Anna wasn't sure how long it'd been going on before she noticed, but gradually she became aware of thin gossamers, extremely complex swirls of color and music. Bit by bit the music began to surround her where she sat, a liquid motion of silvery-white. It was gorgeous. And it was a change, a blessed change. The simple fact of its existence filled her with happiness and relief. She closed her eyes so that she could focus on the sounds. Like the music earlier, this music felt like it was trying to talk to her, tell her a story. She could _almost_ make out the words. Almost…

"Hello."

She shrieked and flinched, almost toppling over.

Sitting cross-legged on the ice in front of her, hands in her lap, back very straight, was a young woman. She had long loose raven black hair and skin as pale as Elsa's. Her entire form was surrounded by the silver-white music. It flickered and flowed, lazy tendrils of harmony undulating slowly in the air around her, a beautiful, intricate dance.

Anna's first thought was, _Angel_.

Her second was that the angel's pale skin only showed where it wasn't covered by an ugly light blue sort of long underwear. The underwear was all once piece, made of some shimmery fabric and form-fitting to an indecent degree. It was impossible not to notice that although the angel was very petite, she was shaped entirely unlike, for example, a stick. Her delicate feet and ankles were _bare_. As soon as Anna processed what she was looking at, her embarrassment exploded. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and the awkward invading her brain. People were _not_ supposed to see other people, especially _angels_ , in such dishabille.

 _LooksomewhereelselooksomewhereelsenotthechestfaceeyeseyesaresafeOH._

The angel's eyes were – wow - like pools of quicksilver. No pupil, no iris, nothing. Completely mesmerizing. Anna was sure she could see herself reflected in them. There were so many other things in those eyes as well… If she just looked a little more closely she could-

"I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you."

"Eeeeep! Sorry, sorry!" She'd been literally about to bump noses. With a _divine being._ Not classy.

"And now I have done it again. You seem tense." The angel smiled. Her smile was beautiful, and very kind.

What Anna _wanted_ to say – she was a princess, after all, trained in etiquette - was something dignified like, "I'm terribly sorry, it's just that it's been a somewhat trying day." Unfortunately, she was near-hysterical with feeling dead and lonely and she accidentally glanced down at the angel's body again, so what her brain offered up was, "Whyaren'tyouwearinganyclothes?" delivered in a mouse-like squeak.

She mentally slapped herself. _Oh, well done. It's probably a uniform that she has to wear when she's popping about and she hates it and now you've pointed it out and made her feel self-conscious. Ugh._

The angel said nothing immediately in return, rather tilting her head a little to one side and studying Anna intently. It only took about five seconds of this before Anna gave in and covered her face with her hands in mortification.

"I'm _so_ sorry." She simply wouldn't look at her at all. Yes, that would work _fine_.

There was another short pause followed by a run of bright music.

"Thank you," said the angel.

 _What?_ "Pardon? Why are you-" Anna dropped her hands, followed by her jaw. The angel had somehow changed position and was now kneeling. Which allowed the _magnificent_ midnight blue off-shoulder gown she was now wearing to pool about her lower half… well, _magnificently_. Her hair was suddenly in the kind of messy updo that Anna knew from experience took four hours and a squad of elite scalp-wranglers to create. Instantly, she felt underdressed.

"I trust this is more appropriate. My apologies. May I start over?"

"Um… sure?"

"Thank you. Hello properly, Princess Anna of Arendelle." The angel gave a slight, formal bow of her head, inclining her upper body.

 _OK, that was, wow- hey._ "Um. Hi? Hi. Uh… how do you know my name?" _Of course she knows your name, idiot. You're dead, frozen in time and being visited by socially challenged angels with really extensive wardrobe options. Name schmame._

"Your name, yes. Princess Anna of Arendelle. It is one thing I know. At this time, I know only _some_ things about you. By no means everything. Not by choice, you understand. I have been told I have a tendency to 'pry'." - apparently angels used air quotes just like regular people - "This is because I am intensely curious and wish to find out all there is to know about everyone and everything. But I have _also_ been told, many times, that it is rude to find out certain things without permission, so I attempt to restrain myself, difficult as that usually is. As it is with you, for example." Her voice was light and strangely resonant, as if more than one voice was speaking when she spoke. Except not, exactly. It was a lovely, musical, angel-y voice.

Anna felt a little dazed by the flood of words. Apparently this particular angel could give even _her_ a run for her money. "Ah, just Anna is, _completely,_ fine."

"As you wish, Anna. I apologize if this seems forward – voila, one thing I do not know - but, may I?"

She held out a delicate, almost fragile-looking hand. Anna eyed it uncertainly.

"Soooo…. Before I do this… what happens now? Do we go to heaven? Wow, I hope not to, like, the _other_ place. I ate all of my vegetables. Well ok, not all, but way more than I wanted to. And that thing with the tapestries in the gallery, I honestly was _not_ using flame arrows at practice. Not that day, anyway."

This earned her another head tilt. The angel seemed to enjoy those.

"What happens now is that perhaps you will take my hand. And then we will be holding hands. I find it comforting to hold on to a friend if I am lonely or afraid."

Anna did a doubletake. " _You're_ afraid? Oh wow, if an angel like you is scared, I'm just f- uh… in trouble."

"Again, my apologies. My statement was grammatically ambiguous. I am not afraid – I dislike that emotion and eschew it whenever possible - nor lonely, because, obviously, you are right here with me. But _you_ are, Anna. And I, for my part, would very much like you not to be. I would like to be your friend."

Her voice held such straightforward sincerity, and Anna did feel lonely and scared, so in the end it was easy. Anna took her hand. Immediately the contact felt… right, in an indefinable way. And the angel's hand was the warmest thing Anna had touched in what seemed like forever.

"Knowing what I _do_ know of you, I expect right now you would like some answers." The angel tightened her grip slightly, like she was making sure Anna wouldn't slip away. It was comforting. "You have experienced a great many difficult things. I am here to be with you, to give you all the answers I can. I want to help."

Anna found herself believing her. And it was such an enormous relief to not be alone in the silent frozen-ness anymore. She glanced up at the angel's face, at those amazing eyes, silver reflectors somehow conveying infinite compassion. The sight made the misery inside her stir. She could feel the tears threatening.

"I-I" Her relief and grief surged up in a cocktail of emotion, knotting her insides and choking off her voice. "I—" She shook her head, unable to form any words. She looked down at the hand holding hers. The angel gently took hold of the other. Anna broke the rest of the way. She gave a wracking sob, then another. Suddenly she couldn't see through the tears. She could only feel as she was pulled gently closer, into an embrace that, impossibly, didn't feel even slightly awkward. The angel was so warm and her music was everywhere, a gentle silver fire that didn't burn. It folded itself around her, like a warm blanket on a cold night.

"Cry, Anna. It is alright. Cry."

xxxxx

It took a long time for Anna's sobbing to ease and even longer for anything like calm to return. Hot on calm's heels came a rush of embarrassment as she became aware of the intimacy of their position. Embracing a complete stranger like this – angel or not - flew in the face of every bit of propriety Anna had ever been taught.

 _Oh, God, please tell me I didn't dribble tears and snot all over—aagh! Disengage! Retreat!_

She didn't want to seem rude or ungrateful so she drew back from the embrace slowly, trying to make polite thank-you-very-much-amazingly-sorry-about-that noises as she did. She sneaked a peek at the angel's neck and shoulder, which were miraculously un-snot-covered, the pale skin as flawless as before. The stunning dress was still stunning. She breathed a sigh of relief and glanced up at the angel's face. She was startled to see quicksilver tracks tracing _her_ cheeks. As she watched, another silver tear gathered and fell. Without thinking, Anna reached forward and intercepted it, swiping it away gently with the pad of her thumb. Silver pools instantly locked with her eyes.

 _Whoa! What are you doing?_ She snatched her hand back and waited for the crushing humiliation to hit, but it didn't. All of her embarrassment had evaporated as soon as their eyes met, and she found she didn't want to look away.

 _Magical anti-awkward angel eyes. How cool is that._

As if reading her mind, the angel gave her another smile. As kind as before, but lighter, cheerful.

"My name is Madrigal."

 _Pretty, pretty name for a pretty, pretty an—wait, what?_

"Would you like to talk now? We do not have to if you do not yet feel ready." Madrigal's eyes flickered. "Oh. But you do feel ready. Of course. Pardon me."

Anna broke their gaze, confused. Did she want to talk? She felt absolutely drained. The upshot of feeling so… flushed out, however, was that it let the curiosity that had been smoldering in her head catch and establish itself. Yes, Madrigal was right. She very much wanted to talk. She needed answers. The first question was going to be the worst, but it had been gnawing at her mind from the beginning. She started to shiver.

 _Ugh, get it out of the way._

"So… um, Am… I _am_ dead, right?" As soon as she got it out and heard it said aloud, however, the enormity of the likely answer hit her like a frisking troll and her mind ricocheted, looking for a way to deflect Madrigal's reply. Panicking, she blurted out the first random thought that came to mind.

"You'rereallyprettyImeanohgodyournameyournameisreally…" Anna cringed inwardly. _I hate you, brain._ "…pretty."

Madrigal remained silent, her expression unreadable, but held out her hands, silently offering once again. Anna took hold of them. She'd started shaking so badly it took two tries. But as soon as she held them, the shaking quieted. Madrigal met her eyes.

"I believe that it is going to be alright, Anna. It is not entirely the answer you dread," she squeezed Anna's hands to emphasize her point, "but it is more complicated than the answer you wish."

Madrigal paused and tilted her head again. It seemed to be her preferred thinking position. Maybe it was an angel thing.

Then she said, "You have died, yes. But you are not properly dead. Let me show you something. Take a breath and hold it."

Confused, Anna did so.

"Now let it out." Anna let it out.

"Again." Anna obliged. Noticing at the same time that she couldn't tell whether Madrigal was breathing or not.

"There. Now you understand." Madrigal nodded, satisfied, as if that explained everything.

"So… No?"

Madrigal's eyes flickered again. "Ah. Oops. My apologies. You see, the dead do not breathe, Anna. More, they do not even recall _how_ to breathe. It is inapplicable to their state of being."

"But you said I _died_."

"Yes. I told you it was complicated. I recall that you were listening quite attentively at the time, too."

"So, what - I'm _slightly_ dead? Isn't that like being _slightly_ pregnant? OK, so far I'm just really confused."

"Yet it is true. Your circumstance is unique, as we discussed. And as I said, it is one of the reasons I am here." Again Madrigal nodded as if confident that her answer had cleared everything up. She looked at Anna expectantly.

"Yeah, um. Madrigal - maybe we have different ideas about, you know, _answers_? Not that I'm not incredibly grateful, but I don't think we- you actually did? Say, that is. Can we maybe start from the beginning? This is all sort of uh… new."

Madrigal's eyes flickered again. She gave Anna another smile, this one a little sheepish. "Ah, I see. Oh dear. Yes, I apologize. I am rather out of practice with navigating linear-time realities. It is like squeezing oneself into a particularly boring and very bendy tube. One can't see anything until _bam_ it smacks one right in the face. I tend to bounce ahead to the interesting parts." Before Anna could feel offended, Madrigal squeezed her hand again and added matter-of-factly, "And believe me, Anna of Arendelle – which is a silly thing to say because I do not lie, what would be the point of that – when I say that you are an _extraordinarily_ interesting part."

Even Madrigal's magic eyes couldn't prevent the blush that colored Anna's face at that. Her stomach did a strange dropping thing. She had never in her life been called interesting, let alone so frankly.

Madrigal breezed on, apparently unaware of Anna's internal fluster. "Yes, we must observe the formalities, go through the motions, _become_ friends, even though we already are, have been for ages, or at least will be shortly. Bah. Linear time is so… _stodgy_. It is like having a nanny who forces one to eat an entire unpleasant meal before being allowed the delicious cake. Or so I have been told. Very well. Where would you like to start?"

"Uh, wow, ok, I guess we're going to need to work on this… Um, so things like, why _are_ you here? Who are you? _What_ are you? Oh, that sounded rude, sorry! But I guess I'm asking, do you normally spend your time popping about talking with… uh… the _slightly_ dead? Is it part of your job?"

Madrigal smiled at her cheerfully. "Well done! All excellent get-to-know-you questions. Let me see. Who am I? I am… well, I am Madrigal, I suppose. I am me. I travel. I learn, I observe. From time to time I am able to fully be with others, as I am with you here. I enjoy those times most."

"Talking is not my _job_ , per se. It is more of a state of being. I do enjoy talking. You may have noticed. Almost as much as listening. I talk with many beings. Some of whom, to you, would seem living, others dead, and yet others neither, or both. The distinction, I think, is overblown. Life and death are just two among many different states of existence. No point in being prejudiced. After all, the stones from which that draughty-looking castle is built are not better or worse than, for example, Jandithian hyperslugs. And beings in any state of existence may have interesting things to say. Including hyperslugs. Less often with stones."

"As to _what_ I am, that is harder to say."

Anna, head whirling from the auditory assault, managed, "I just kind of assumed you're an angel? I mean, that's sure what it seems like. You've certainly got the beauti-"

Mercifully, Madrigal interrupted with a shake of her head, "Goodness, no. Definitely not as your religion would define one, anyway. I do not work for a central agency. I almost never smite anyone and prefer not to push my point of view on other beings." She gestured to her back, "and, sadly, I lack wings. They would be marvelous. Although I think I would prefer cadmium to the classical white. Hm. Perhaps difficult to manage at times. Molting might be an issue. The good news, I suppose, is that neither am I an orthodox demon, exactly; though some would humorously beg to differ. Note the distinct lack of horns, tail, hooves, pointed teeth and attempts to barter for your soul or rend you to bits. This, I am sure, you find reassuring. Very well. Onward! Let us continue becoming friends. This is very enjoyable. Next question?"

She definitely hadn't taken a breath. Madrigal's rambling was awe-inspiring. It was like she was the angel God had appointed to be in charge of word spew. Anna said, "Well, true, I am super relieved about the demon thing. Um… So are there others like you?"

"No. I am the only being like me. Of whom I am aware, at least."

Anna, bracing for the deluge, almost rocked forward at the brevity of Madrigal's answer. "Oh. But isn't that awfully lonely?"

Madrigal shrugged. "I do not believe so, but I may be wrong. Loneliness is relative, is it not? I have no comparative. There are many I love. I have many dear friends, past, present, future, in many realities. And there are always new beings to meet, to befriend and to love."

Before she could think, Anna blurted out, "But don't you have anyone special? Like a husband?" She slapped her hand over her traitor mouth. "Oh! That's totally too personal, I'm sorry. Ignore that."

Madrigal eyes flickered again. Her expression shifted, became wary. It looked strange on her face. "I _must_ not—I do not know."

"How can you not—oh, nevermind. Sorry, sorry. Waaaay too personal. Different question. Uh, so have you—I mean, do you live forever?"

Madrigal cheered up at that. "Well, I had, or will have, a beginning to my existence. I have had or will have many, many endings. None of which will necessarily happen or, of course, have come to pass for Madrigal-as-I-am, but I hardly need explain such obvious things to _you_ , who so long ago, recently, and soon enough will have understood better than anyone else anyway."

Anna couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. She threw up her hands in surrender. "Okay, you've lost me. Amazingly. Like, completely. Your verb tenses alone are killing me. I don't speak non-linear Angel, remember? And by the way, I've decided you're wrong. You're definitely an angel."

"But I told you, I am not. And before you dispute me, I know I did, I just went back and checked."

xxxxx

"So ergo you have to admit it, you _are_ an awful lot like an angel. Q.E.D."

They'd been talking for maybe-hours, maybe-days, impossible to tell. Comfortable talking interspersed with comfortable silences. It was so easy, so natural. Madrigal was _amazing_. Often incomprehensible. Sometimes serious, mostly cheerful. Kind. Surprisingly, teasable.

Anna was ecstatic - her first real – amazing - friend was an _angel_ ; she'd made up her mind about that ages ago. It had just taken a while to wear Madrigal down. She was a stubborn angel.

Madrigal smiled, held up her hands in surrender, "Very well. You win. If calling me an angel makes you happy, go ahead."

"Yes!" Anna clapped her hands in victory.

After a moment's silence Madrigal added, smiling, "And thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"For your compliment earlier. I find your… name very beautiful as well. Especially the way you pronounce it."

Anna felt that odd dropping sensation in her stomach again. When the expected surge of self-consciousness didn't materialize, she realized that she'd become caught in Madrigal's magic eyes again. She was, she also realized, fine with that. They really were incredible. The entire sky was in them, and _very_ much awake.

 _My amazing friend is an angel. I have a friend. Who's an angel. And is amazing. I. have. a. FRIEND._

Madrigal said something. _Her voice is amazing too._

"Hmmm?" _Do angels even have husbands?_

"I asked whether, provided you promise to leave the angel issue alone given that you have browbeaten me into submission - which has made you rather pleased with yourself - you had more questions?"

"Um… sure?" _If I were a guy angel, I'd-_

The edges of Madrigal's mouth curved up.

"The _slightly_ dead also blink, Anna of Arendelle. Occasionally."

 _What? Oh. My. God._ Anna glanced away, suddenly flushing and flustered. _What in the seven kingdoms is wrong with me?_

"Uh, yeah. OK, yes, questions! Right. So… what is this place then? If I'm slightly dead, then is this _slightly_ hell? It all feels a bit hellish. I mean, not all of it, definitely not you, you don't feel hellish, you feel the opposite, which I guess is heavenish- oh no that sounds like I called you heavy, which isn't at all true, you're almost too thin but totally unangular, I mean you didn't have any clothes on, which was embarrassing, and you're so petite and um… Arrgh?"

Anna stared at the ground, wondering if she might be able to sink through the ice if she really focused. Barring that, a good long faint right about now would be wonderful.

There was a second or so of complete silence, broken by a bell-like laugh. It was an intensely joyful sound. It instantly banished her awkwardness, even more effectively than those eyes. Anna risked a glance up. The expression on Madrigal's face was wonderful – equal parts happy and surprised, as if she'd never laughed before and was just now finding out that she really enjoyed it.

 _Wow, she even has amazing teeth._

"You're laughing at me." _I want you to laugh again._

Still laughing, Madrigal said, "I apologize, Anna. I did say that you were interesting. To answer your question. No. This is not hell. This is just a resting place. Like a bench beside the path where we can sit for a moment and gather our thoughts, as you have done. A wooden bench, perhaps. I quite like how that kind of bench can look, especially after a bit of rain, with the water drops. Eventually we will get up and continue our walk."

"We? You'll stay with me?"

"Yes. I think we will need one another."

"How long will you stay?"

"That will depend on you."

Anna got that dropping sensation again. To distract herself, she gestured to the still figures, "Is that why they aren't moving? Because we're resting?"

"More or less, yes. They _are_ moving. Just very slowly. Others still walk on the path so I cannot hold time back entirely, even this single thread. And of course I do not wish to. We must let this circumstance unfold if we are to move forward. I am most interested to experience whatever is about to happen."

"Right, you said something about this…" Anna waved her hand around vaguely, "circumstance being unique? You've seen what happens? So you understand what's happening here? What's going to happen next?"

"I do understand what is happening, yes. In fact, I am the engineer of much of this…" Madrigal smiled, waving her hand like Anna had. "Of where we are right now." Her expression turned more serious. "But I do not know exactly what will happen next. I cannot – _must_ not - see all of everything, especially not where I myself am involved. There is a mist, a smoke of undetermined futures and realities within which I must stay. I have only seen _potential_ futures, outcomes. Some good, many bad; some clearly, others very dimly. So as to what happens next, both for you and for your sister, it will very much depend on you, Anna."

Madrigal's last sentence stabbed Anna's awareness, snapping her back to grim reality. She had become so caught up in the wonderful experience of her new friend that she had managed to forget her situation almost entirely. One glance over at Elsa's horrified face brought everything crashing back.

She was silent for a moment. Whatever happened next to her wasn't the issue. It was what happened next to Elsa, and to the kingdom – but really, mostly to Elsa – that mattered.

She took a deep breath. "Madrigal? When everything… starts up again, is there any way you can make sure Elsa stays safe? _Please_." She leaned in toward her friend. "I don't know the rules, how any of this works, but if it will help, I'll do anything. I'll pay the price, if it's a price thing. I'll die the rest of the way. _Anything_. If there's anything left I can do, if I still have any choices, I want to use them for her. I owe her for what I did."

She realized that her urgency had brought her right inside Madrigal's personal space. The angel looked a bit upset. Anna grimaced apologetically and sat back with a sigh.

"Look, let's be honest. My life has pretty much been a complete disaster." She gave a humorless laugh. "Apparently happy for the first five years – which I don't really remember — and then a shut-in hermit for _thirteen._ My existence has been _irrelevant_. In fact, not even. I mean, I know I'm not a bad person, but my life has actually been a _bad_ thing. If I hadn't been around to do whatever I did to hurt Elsa, maybe she wouldn't have been locked up, and I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened. So if we can still turn this… situation around and patch up Elsa's life somehow? Maybe you can erase all her memories of me or something, I don't know. Just so that she can be happy, she can live her life and be a good queen and just be— _happy_." Tears were starting to trickle down her cheeks yet again, these ones angry. " _Please_. Before I go wherever I have to go next, let me atone for what I did."

"Anna. _Stop._ " The voice was a whisper.

Surprised, she looked at Madrigal. She'd sort of zoned out during her rant. The bottom dropped out of her stomach, this time in an unpleasant way. Silent silver tears once again streamed down Madrigal's face. Anna instantly wanted to soothe them away. She felt horrible. It was like all she ever did was make people cry.

"Why are you crying? Oh, please don't cry! I'm sorry!"

She reached out again and, for want of better, used the hem of her sleeve to blot her friend's pale cheeks. Once Anna was done, Madrigal reached out in turn, brushing her fingers across Anna's face, her hand gentle, her touch warm as she carefully traced each tear track. Her expression had shifted, impossible to interpret.

Madrigal's voice was quiet when she said, "Look at your body, Anna."

Confused, Anna looked down. "What? Do I have something on my-"

"No, Anna. Your other body."

"Oh. Um, I've been trying to ignore that, actually."

"Please?"

 _Oh that's so not fair._ Steeling herself, she looked. Yeah, still pretty awful. She looked so terrified.

"If that were an actual statue and you were to put a title on it, what would it be?"

"Uh… I have no idea. Probably something like _Poor Life Choices_?"

Madrigal shook her head, "I have seen the inscriptions written by your sister in other futures, other worlds. She always uses words such as _Beloved_. _Protector_. _Hero_. And many similar. Anna, what happened when you were children was an accident, nothing more. You were hurt, badly, by Elsa's magic. By _accident_. It gave you the white streak in your hair. All of the rest, as you have deduced, was driven by fear. It is not right to blame the rock for being shaped by the river in which it lies. There is nothing for which to atone."

" _I_ got hurt? An _accident_?"

"Yes, Anna. No great evil. Terrifying enough, for those who loved you, but you do not bear the blame for how they handled that fear."

"But… I… I had always assumed that _I_ did something. Something unforgivable, horrible. Are you sure? Why didn't they ever explain anything to me? I just don't understand. It's not as if they couldn't see how devastated I was! An _accident_? That's _IT?_ "

Madrigal's voice was gentle, "Yes. That is all that happened."

Anna just sat for a long while, stunned, trying to figure it out. It didn't make any sense.

Eventually she looked up at Madrigal, her expression completely lost. ""But… to make my life such a hell, without a reason? Why did they hate me so much?"

Madrigal gathered Anna's limp hands into her warm ones once again.

She said, "Love corrupted by fear can be impossible to distinguish from hate. It can have outcomes just as terrible."

Sudden anger surged in Anna at that. "Don't ever call any of it _love_. Love is _action_. Call it what it was. It was hate. It was neglect. It was abuse." Her angry expression turned bitter. "I didn't die today. I actually _did_ die thirteen years ago. Aaaagh!" She dropped Madrigal's hands, knotted her own angrily in her hair.

"I give up! At least it's simpler now. If they hated me that much, then I can just hate them _back_. Mother, Father, Elsa, everyone. I can hate them _all_." Her eyes blazed, furious, "In fact, to hell with them all. To hell with everything. I'm done, Madrigal. I'm ready to go wherever I need to go. Even if it's nowhere. God, _especially_ if it's nowhere."

"But Elsa—"

Anna leaned in very close to her and hissed, "Madrigal. _Fuck_ Elsa. Fuck _everything_. I. Want. _Out._ "

Madrigal didn't pull back. Her face was only inches away. The wide quicksilver pools of her eyes were fixed on Anna's face. Her expression was inert, unreadable. But as Anna watched, new silver drops formed and fell, painting white cheeks.

Those tears were her fault. Anna's fault. Like everything else. She flung herself away onto the ice. White-hot self-loathing blanked out everything as she felt the last thin sliver of her life crumble to dust, felt the end of the tiny rationalization on which she'd built her existence, that she could someday atone for what she'd done and once again be loved. Be worthy of love.

The truth offered her only despair. She wept. She had been punished, hated for what she was, not what she'd done. For being the victim of an _accident_. Hated for being _Anna_.

xxxxx

It took an age, this time, for the misery inside her to burn down to coals. The world around her began to seep back in. Numbed, out of tears, she just lay where she was. She was sick to death, as it were, of crying.

There was another sound. Emotionally worn out, she didn't want to look. But she did.

Madrigal was kneeling with her hands over her face. Perfectly still. She looked so… tiny. The carving of a grieving angel, like you'd find on a headstone.

In a blink exhausted anger and hurt gave way to concern. She got up and touched a tentative hand to Madrigal's bare shoulder. The skin was soft and very warm. A _zing-_ shock ran up Anna's arm, surged through her chest and down her other arm, tingling everywhere.

At the touch, Madrigal straightened. Her hands dropped to her lap, but she kept her eyes downcast. Anna ducked down, trying to meet her eyes, keeping her hand, the contact, in place.

"Madrigal, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Madrigal looked up. Anna was thrown for a second, instinctively expecting a puffy I've-been-bawling-my-eyes-out face. But other than the curtain of liquid silver below her eyes, Madrigal's face was as immaculate as ever. Her expression wasn't unreadable anymore, however. It was _scared_.

She said, her voice almost pleading. "Anna, I told you. I cannot. I _must_ not. Those paths are too clear. But it hurts, Anna. Your pain _hurts_. I did not know that I would be afraid of-"

The hug was instinctive, Anna's arms wrapping around Madrigal's tiny body, pulling her in close. The smaller woman's return embrace was instant and surprisingly strong.

This time, the thought that it might have been awkward didn't even cross Anna's mind.

xxxxx

Madrigal asked, "Do you think you truly hate them?"

Anna sighed. "Yes. No, I don't know. I don't want to. It feels like poison."

Madrigal's soft voice was full of compassion. "I think because it is not who you are, Anna. Your soul is not made for hate."

"Just to _be_ hated, I guess, eh?" Anna sighed again, "Forget I said that, I'm just wallowing." She pillowed her hands behind her head and stared up at the unchanging sky. The ice wasn't cold, but it wasn't the most comfortable thing to lie on.

Madrigal said, "I cannot speak of your parents but I know that Elsa does not hate you. She loves you so strongly, Anna. I _know_ this. But she is broken. Her fear and self-hate, born that day and made strong by isolation, rule her. They are harsh rulers, demanding misery. What better source of misery than rejecting the one you love until she invariably becomes indifferent or full of hate? If you feel yourself a monster, it colors your actions, not so? Monsters do not live happily ever after. They suffer, and then they die, as is proper."

Anna looked over at her friend. "That makes a really sick sort of sense. But she's not a monster. I might be able to hate my parents, but no… I just can't hate Elsa. She's just a victim, like me."

"Truth. She believes she is a monster but she is not. She is a terrified young woman who has been emotionally abused most of her life. She is incapable of many things most take for granted. But she is capable of love. She loves you."

The embers of Anna's pain flared, "I don't know if I can believe that."

"Her love for you is why you are here. And, I think, ultimately why I am here."

Anna's reply was bitter, "Her _love_ is why I'm slightly dead? Wow, given my messed-up life, that probably makes a sick sort of sense too. She killed me with her love."

"No. In this time and in this world, Elsa killed her sister, the human Anna-that-was, with her fear. But in so doing her magic, driven by her love, created this unique circumstance."

Anna huffed impatiently, "You keep talking about a circumstance. _What_ circumstance?"

"The birth of Anna-that-may-be."

"Madrigal, you're talking Angel again. You're not making any _sense_."

Madrigal's tone became teasing, "Angel indeed. Perhaps you might say the birth of an angel, though that would not be accurate. No wings, for example."

Anna burst out laughing. "I'm going to become like _you_? That's, wow, so really—wow. You're funny."

Madrigal's voice grew serious. "No Anna, you will become like _you_. At least, I very much hope so. As I said, it is why I am here."

Anna sat up and turned to stare at her.

"Wait, what - you're serious? You're not serious. This is kind of a mean joke. I'm just _dead_ , Madrigal."

"I am serious. And, as I told you, you are not properly dead."

"But I'm just me, nothing special. I mean, you're magical and beautiful, and I'm just me—"

Madrigal reached out and put a hand gently over Anna's mouth. The gesture was casual and so unconsciously, naturally intimate it was paralyzing.

"Anna, unlikely as it is for me to say - hush. I think it is time. It is time to show you rather than tell." Madrigal looked at her seriously, "As I said, I do not know the outcome. It will depend on our actions, more yours than mine. There is risk; for all concerned there are many more bad futures than good that can be realized from this place. We must navigate carefully, and you must above all else trust your instincts. Trust your heart. You have already made the best possible start. Do you think you are ready?"

Anna smiled, "Don't you already know?"

Madrigal remained serious. "Yes."

Anna nodded. "Do we stay together?"

"Yes."

"For as long as I want?"

"Yes."

"Then I was born ready. So to speak."

Madrigal smiled at her, that warm, kind smile. "Alright. If I remember correctly, this is going to – what is that odd expression my friend uses – freak you out. Do not forget, I am right here. Ready?"

"Ugh. _Yes_ already."

"Look at your hands."

Puzzled, Anna did. _Something_ gave a tiny lurch. Snowflakes began to fall. The figures of her sister and friends remained frozen.

The explosion of hot brilliance, white-golden as the surface of the sun, reflected in wide quicksilver pools.


	3. Interlogue

_**Interlogue**_

Everything was wild sound and motion, music fluttering silver-white, snapping like sails in a gale, a symphonic cocoon, through which star-glimpses, rainbow-colored like stars never are, Anna's sense of self spilling from time to time, always gently corralled back by silver melodies, reality outside the shimmering veil so incomprehensible as to be irrelevant.

To a sudden stop in inky darkness. It took Anna a moment to get her bearings. All of her seemed to be there. Madrigal was beside her, holding her hand, comfortably solid, her silver-white symphonic corona shuttered to tolerable levels. There were stars all around – like, all around. Above, below, in every direction. In the nearer distance was a giant burning ball, like a sun but huge, and by its light…

"Uh… Madrigal? Who is that?"

"Who do you think?"

"What? No idea. He looks like a knight? The armor is really strange. Where are we? Why's he all floaty? It's like he's underwater. Is he-"

"No, she is still alive. As to where we are, it is a place above the sky, between a world and its sun. People travel up here, sometimes, in ships, between worlds and in ages other than your own. You will see. But for now, let us take a better look at this knight."

The form was gently cartwheeling, limbs loose, surrounded all about by fragments, scraps of something, metal perhaps. Larger chunks of the same material floated nearby, performing their own silent dance. Madrigal pulled on her hand and they drifted closer. Anna reached out, hesitated.

"It is alright. Your touch will not harm her."

Steeling herself, Anna reached out and caught hold of a ridge on the strange armor. The entire body was freezing to the touch and for a few seconds she was back on the frozen fjord in her last moments of life with that inexorable, invasive cold clawing it's way toward her heart. It took a moment and a serious effort of will before she was able to look more closely. There were odd, magical-looking little lights dancing inside the equally odd glass-fronted helmet, limning an icy-pale face, asleep, unconscious, frozen in death, it was impossible to tell. Anna recoiled in shock.

"Um, Madrigal? What's going on? T-that's _me_!"

"More than you can appreciate, yes. And also not at all. Look at all of her, properly. _See_ her."

It was the last thing she wanted to do. But Anna stared at the still form. The face through the glass looked sad and worn. Anna couldn't see any signs of life.

"Are you sure I—she isn't… you know?"

"Look closely at the glass by her mouth."

She did. After a moment she saw a tiny opaque bloom that vanished almost instantly. A few seconds later it came again. Suddenly she got it.

"It's like your breath on a cold day, right? I mean, the frost from her mouth - that shows she's breathing?"

"Yes."

She felt relieved. And then she felt that this person, this… other-her – if Madrigal was to be believed - needed to open her eyes. Other-Anna needed to be alright. She was freezing to death. She needed _not_ to freeze to death.

At the thought, golden light and music and heat flooded from her hands, coruscating over the limp form, sinking into it and vanishing. Other-Anna gave a shuddering heave of breath and the eyes behind the glass flickered slowly open, confused and barely aware. Anna didn't even have time to be startled before she was floating in colors and harmonies, singing of greens and summer, growing things and life. It was very like the color-symphony she'd experienced before, so many familiar washes of light and music. But here they were quiet, a faded, muted rainbow of what they were before. And as she listened and looked, she could sense other, darker colored harmonies as well, some of which felt far too familiar. There was hurt, loss, regret. Overriding all else, despair, iron-hard.

Anna had to struggle back to her sense of self, extracting herself from what felt like her own skin, before she could even speak.

"Oh my God. Madrigal… she feels… I feel _everything_ in her. Almost everything. But she's so terribly, terribly sad. We have to help her, _please_. We can't leave her here. I'll- she'll freeze – she'll die," Anna choked on a sob, "and she _wants_ to. Oh dear sweet heaven."

"She has given up. And she is alone. Her Song here is done. I cannot save her, but _you_ can, at least from this. It is the only part of the path I can see with any clarity. After that..."

"Me? What can I do?"

"Before, do you remember how you felt as you moved away from your sister?"

"Of course but—"

"Hold onto your knight, and hold me, Anna. Hold on very, _very_ tight. Can you feel it now? The pull?"

"Uh… yes, actually, now that you mention it. I can. Weird-"

There was the briefest flash of silver-white and then everything went golden.


	4. Day One

_**Day One**_

" _Anja."_

Whoa. Fuzzy. Her breathing hitched, she coughed. Her mouth tasted like the third day of an all-things-unholy convention.

" _Titanja. You need to wake up."_

That seemed like a really dumb idea. It would lead to a whole bunch of awful things. For example, opening her eyes. Nope. The drilling in her skull was bad enough as it was. Pass. She was supposed to be dead, anyway, or next best thing to. Not much point waking up just to watch it come.

" _You're out of ox. I need to unseal. We're in breathable atmo."_

That took a few seconds to process. _Wait, what?_

" _I'm unsealing our helmet in ten seconds, ready or not. So get yourself together. Honestly, it's like you've never been spaced before."_

Well, GARDA was obviously in a mood.

Anja groaned. Everything hurt more than usual. Normally she only felt this bad after going five rounds with Ogre. "OK. Jessasec, where—" Her voice was a whispery rasp.

There was a beep and she felt her helmet shift, bumping her sore head as it retracted. Followed immediately by icy air on her face, ambrosia, her body sucking it desperately into starved lungs. It was _really_ cold and the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. She coughed again, cracked her eyes open, squinting against the awful brightness. _Ow._ Definitely not in space.

Grey sky above. Something was fluttering down… wait—she was actually lying on… snow? Definitely dirtside. _How? Was she back home?_ Or just – finally - dead? She checked. Huh. Nope. Didn't seem that way. Not unless people had vital signs in the afterlife. She sighed. Part of her was disappointed, another part relieved. She suspected the relieved part was in the minority. She was just so _tired._ And cold. Her veins felt like they were full of ice water and there was a frozen lump where her heart should have been, though that didn't seem to prevent it from pounding stubbornly away. She wasn't sure she could feel her hands and feet.

 _Fine._ If she wasn't dead, then…

A lifetime of – apparently still-applicable - hard-learned caution flared. She rolled, groaning again as her body lodged its complaints. She managed a reasonable crouch that slipped into more of a kneel as her vision embarked on some independent acrobatics. Good thing she had nothing left in her stomach to heave up. Wow, she felt awful. Last thing she recalled—

 _Later. Focus._

"GARDA. Hazards?" She was behind some kind of low solid railing, the surface she squatted on slightly sloped, dusted with windswept snow. The wall gave excellent visual cover, greyish, ice-rimed, carved with intricate patterns. Wait…

Wood? Not possible. She glanced left and right, swept the snow beneath her feet. Planks. Wood as well. Who could afford to make such a huge… whatever this was? Out of real wood? No one was _that_ wealthy.

The HUD in her eye started scrolling.

 _#Hazard Analysis: Five proximate lifesigns. Three humanoid, probable human-trace. One quadruped, unknown signature. One uncatalogued. Negative Sutili contact.#_

A tac-layout popped up on her HUD, showing relative positions. They were grouped roughly twenty metres on the other side of her cover. The uncatalogued lifeform icon kept flickering and seemed to be moving off. One of the humanoid icons suddenly turned red. _#Class SIX energy warning, unknown signature.#_

" _Be careful, Anja. A class six and I'm having difficulty locking on that one uncatalogued lifeform. I also can't locate any beacons. We're operating in the blind."_

 _An inhabited dark world? No way._

"Got it. Keep polling. And hit me with two."

" _You are badly dehydrated, not to mention exhausted. You need aq-and-rack, not stimulants."_

"Says the Awar who just finished telling me not to be such a bab-"

The cold breeze shifted, bringing a new, faint sound to her attention. Someone was… _crying_.

And for no reason her heart was racing. Before she could draw another breath her instincts kicked in and she was over the wall.

 _Mother Night! That's a biiiig drop._

 _CRUNCH. Ow._

Ice. Thick, hard, smooth ice. _Just like home._ The latticing in her armor helped with the deceleration, but she'd landed with more weight on her right than she should have. Her knee wasn't happy. Thankfully, planetary gravity felt light.

"Two, GARDA, _now_."

She felt an instant flood of energy as the stimulants hit her bloodstream. GARDA had also energized her traction spikes on impact, which was fortunate because once more she was moving without conscious decision, sizing up the tactical situation as she sprinted forward across the glare ice. It was like her legs belonged to someone else. No, correction: it was like the part of her brain that said _help the crying person_ was just really, really loud and bossy.

The crying person – apparently an h-trace female - was draped over and half-hidden by some kind of… statue? OK, _very_ odd. The other two bipeds appeared to be h-trace males. They were shouting angrily at one another, language unfamiliar. One of them held a stubby bladed weapon and was moving toward the woman while taking energetic swipes at anything that came near, yelling as he did. Foreign language or not, he sounded unhinged. The other man was unarmed but nevertheless standing between the blade wielder and the woman, obviously trying to stop him from approaching closer. The ungulate was hopping about beside the unarmed man, making odd honking noises and moving in little rushes at the bladesman, darting forward but shying away whenever he took a swing at it.

Crazed or not, the blade wielder looked like he knew what he was doing. The two defenders very obviously didn't. He was backing them up rapidly, only a few metres remaining between him and the sobbing woman. Anja felt a twinge of irritation at her. Standing around blubbering wasn't a particularly impressive course of action, especially when your hapless defenders were about to get shanked.

The bladesman had his back to her. A conviction nudged her mind. He was the obvious threat, but on top of that, something in her didn't like him. Not at _all_. The choice of target was easy.

The unarmed man and the animal processed her presence at about the same instant. They both stopped dead with their mouths open, their expressions almost comically identical. Their sudden change in demeanour must have confused the blade wielder because he paused his wild swings, affording her enough time for a leap that carried her the last four metres and into position. The bladesman, perhaps warned by the others' gazes, had barely started to turn around when Anja's armored boot, at the end of a spinning back-kick, crashed into the side of his head. He dropped to the ice with a dull, neutralized-sounding thud. If he was indeed human-trace and he wasn't dead from _that_ hit, he'd be too busy vomiting his guts out when he woke up to be a threat.

 _One down._

The other man and the animal didn't _look_ dangerous, but she wasn't trained to take stupid chances. Usually. The woman was still draped over the statue crying like a trooper and just didn't process as a threat, even though either she or whatever she was hugging had to be associated with the class six power sig somehow.

The man didn't look like he'd be a problem but the ungulate was pretty big, if stupid looking. She herself wasn't in any kind of fighting shape. She could feel how close to collapse she was, her body horribly weak. Her head was still spinning from the rotation of her kick. She had no idea how long she'd been spaced, but it must have been a while. She was less frigidly numb now but as soon as the stims wore off she'd probably be out of action. She opted for talk. She hadn't understood what the men had been shouting at each other, so she tried Trade Chant.

"Stand down! I don't want to hurt you."

She'd instinctively unsheathed her claws when she'd attacked. She debated retracting them but caution said that the ungulate was just too big a risk. And she realized that she'd lost track of the fifth lifeform entirely. It was nowhere on her HUD. She could opt for her sidearm but given how primitive everything looked, they might not even understand what an erg pistol was, or could do. No, she decided, the blades stayed out. They'd understand those. She was _mostly_ confident she could take the large ungulate if it charged, as long as it did so _really_ soon. It was the oddest creature she'd ever seen, and though evidently adapted for the cold, was obviously not trained to fight. Then she swayed, suddenly dizzy, and hastily compromised. She'd pull her gun if she couldn't sort this out in the next few minutes.

The man hadn't moved, which was encouraging, but neither had he replied. In fact, he seemed to be in shock. Now that she had more than a half second to spare, she realized just _how_ primitive all of their garb was. The male she'd flattened was dressed more elaborately than the one in front of her, but it still looked like he was wearing some type of organic fabric.

She began to get a horrible feeling in the pit of her gut. If this was a fully precontact world… ugh. She could be seriously screwed both legally and survival-wise. But there _were_ no h-trace precontact civilizations in Concordat space, almost by definition. It didn't make any sense.

She risked a quick glance around. They seemed to be in the middle of a frozen lake. They were surrounded by several of the large wooden structures similar to the one from which she'd so vigorously catapulted herself. Something tickled at her mind about these. She'd seen something like them once, somewhere.

 _Focus._

"GARDA. Can you translate what they were saying? Also, any beacon?"

" _Negative on the language. I'll need a larger sample, especially if I'm blind. I'm still polling beacons. No response."_

 _Curse it._

She returned her attention to the man and tried Trade Chant again, "Can you understand me?" Nothing.

She tried Delassian. The man shook his head and said a word, questioning. It sounded a bit like her bond-name, but oddly emphasized and accented. Not that that was possible. She'd never met him. There was no way he could know something like that. He turned and glanced back at the – amazingly - still crying female, then said something to the ungulate. He sounded confused.

She tried her native Holt. As she'd expected, no glimmer of understanding. Not a Cursed lot of Holt speakers left. The man reached out a hand toward her and said something else. She backed up a pace, holding her stance.

In desperation she tried Sutili, which earned her raised eyebrows but no sign of comprehension. No surprise there; the language sounded like chewing on hullmetal at the best of times and her spoken Sutili was unavoidably terrible – she just didn't have the right physiology. She'd probably invited them to dine on her grandmother. Maybe they were just speechless with shock.

 _Curse it_. Nothing but blank incomprehension and confusion mixed with obvious nervousness. The man kept looking at her, at her blades, and then behind him at the woman. Maybe there was something wrong with his brain. The animal was no better. They were obviously well matched.

Wait. Something had changed.

The woman had stopped crying. Anja's instincts went berserk.

Her HUD flashed. _#ALERT Proximity ALERT#_

 _Oh Mother Night._ The unknown life-form was right behind her. It was low to the ground, moving silently and very fast. It warbled a crazed warcry as it attacked.

"Onna! Du lever!"

She spun, slashing down on an angle with her claws. She felt them connect, the SL-blades as expected with barely any resistance, but her sword-bayonet with equally little. The unexpected lack of resistance combined with her dizziness was enough to throw off her balance just as the creature's impact took her low on the side halfway through her spin. With the loss of her center of gravity her own angular momentum hammered her down onto the ice like she'd been ground-pounded by a dropship.

Her hip hit the ice first but her unprotected skull showed good hustle and got there second, slamming enthusiastically into the unyielding surface. Darkness exploded across her vision, along with a bitter metallic pain that pulsed violently through her head. Instantly she began losing focus.

She couldn't see, couldn't think. Where the hell were her arms and legs, why weren't they obeying? Someone was making a frustrated moaning sort-of noise. Ah. Of course it was her. Awkward.

 _Come ON. Get up, Arundel. El would laugh herself silly at you, being such a soft-shell._

" _You need to get up, Anja. The female is coming closer. She's definitely the class six. I can't stim you again, you're too weak. Get up."_

 _Trying, GARDA. Trying._

There! She could feel an arm. Then another one. Full complement. Yes, and her legs; there they were. She shook her head, trying to clear her sight, rewarded only with another white stab of pain through her skull. Her vision stayed blurred even as she scrambled to get upright. Her blades were no help, skittering and hissing against the ice, hampering her efforts. She made it as far as her knees, but she was swaying dangerously. If she stood she'd just fall down.

The blurred figures that she could make out were all well out of blade reach. For a second nothing moved. Then three nearby blurred mounds of snow slithered together into a taller blurred mound that _giggled_ ominously, said something incomprehensible and waddled over to the blur she felt might be the woman.

She had evidently hit her head very hard.

The possible-woman blur started coming toward her, slowly. In her current state she wouldn't have been able to hit the side of a planet if she fell on it but she kept her blades out anyway.

She tried again. "Stay still, all of you!" Her voice was thin as paper. Blackness edged farther inward.

The blur paused—

-Somehow she'd lost a few seconds and the blur wasn't a blur anymore, but a person, right in front of her. She got a clearer view. Her breath caught as her heart lurched. In a panic she pulled in her claws.

"El?"

For a glorious instant, she was looking at the beautiful face of her bondmate. Impossible hope blossomed inside her.

But then the moment passed and she was looking at an h-trace female, not a Delassian. Anja slumped back onto her heels as the hope died, transforming instantly into unwelcome fuel for her aching grief.

For an instant she hated the woman. But just as quickly as it came, the fury evaporated. Hate took energy and oh, Mother Night. She was _tired_. She just wanted to sleep, to rest. Preferably forever. The pounding in her skull was awful.

Her HUD scrolled. Even that was hard to keep in focus.

 _#Neural activity patterns indicate mild concussion. We're out of options. Get low, Anja. You're going to lose consciousness. I will keep you safe.#_

"'Kay."

She felt herself tipping sideways, tried to catch herself, but her Cursed limbs were wandering off again. The blurring was getting worse. Maybe this was finally it. Please Mother Night let it be the end.

Suddenly the woman was holding her, saying something over and over, crying yet again. A champion tear-jockey, this one. Anja tried to move, push her away, but now her entire body wasn't listening to her. Why wasn't GARDA reacting? The woman was literally crushing Anja to her. She smelled really… strange. _White_.

 _So sorry, E—_

The black flooded in.

xxxxx

It wasn't the sudden silence that made Elsa turn around. The men's shouting had stopped. She had barely even processed it while it was happening. That odd friend of Anna's was trying to protect her, perhaps. It didn't matter. Anna was gone and it didn't matter. If she got lucky, Hans would finish her off and it would be done.

 _"I've been talking to Kristoff a bit, you know, to give you a break. He says hi, by the way. You two never got properly introduced."_

Elsa flinched. That had sounded like Anna's voice? Now she was hearing voices?

Then from behind her a woman shouted something. The voice was angry, raspy, tired. Whatever she was saying was incomprehensible. But the voice itself had just spoken to her. The woman shouted again, and then again, making the oddest sounds. It was enough to reach through the choking veil of indifference. Elsa raised her head, looked behind her. Shock.

" _Anna?_ " she whispered.

Hans was on the ground, unmoving. Anna, _her sister Anna_ , was shouting something at her large friend. And Anna herself… she was wearing, what? And… swords?

Just then, Olaf came scurrying up behind Anna, stick-arms held wide for a hug.

"Anna! You're alive!"

Her little sister moved so fast that it was impossible to follow. One second Olaf was behind her, the next there was a spinning flicker of metal and light and three piles of snow were flying through the air to land with a splat on the ice. Followed by a much louder crash as Anna, losing her balance, went down hard. Elsa screamed as she heard Anna's head slam into the ice.

Elsa started forward, desperate to get to her sister's side, but then stopped, wildly confused. None of this made any sense. She checked behind her to make sure Anna's frozen form was still there. It was. So how…? She looked back at the other Anna, who was shakily trying to get up, muttering dazedly to herself as she did so. The sight was too much. _That_ Anna needed help. Elsa took a few, conflicted steps toward her.

Movement caught Elsa's attention as Olaf pulled himself together with a giggle and came waddling over.

"Wow, Anna seems tense," he remarked cheerfully, "She's never trisected me before. Where did you _send_ her?"

When Elsa looked up, Anna had managed to get to her knees. She was obviously dazed, barely staying upright. She kept those lethal-looking blades held out. Anna shouted something else and then her eyes went glassy. She was going to collapse. Elsa threw caution to the wind and rushed forward, crouching down to her sister's level and stopping just clear of the waving blades.

Up close everything made even less sense. Anna was wearing a strange suit of armor, like a knight. And she wasn't actually holding the odd swords. The left-hand blade, a straight wide length of wickedly serrated greyish metal, actually _protruded_ from the back of her hand at the wrist through a small opening in the armor. The right-hand blades were even stranger, two slightly curved planes of what looked like glowing dark green glass. They too extended forward from the back of Anna's wrist, but with thin ridges that continued back up the outside of her forearm as well.

Just then Anna gave a shocked cry. The blades vanished, the glowing ones disappearing in a blink and the metallic sliding up _into_ the back of her hand with a hiss.

All of Elsa's confusion – all thought, really - vanished as she looked up and found Anna staring at her. In an instant, everything stopped. The universe went aquamarine. No one had _ever_ looked at her with that kind of intensity before.

"El?" Anna's raspy voice was quiet, filled with… things.

Anna's eyes held her. She couldn't move, couldn't look away. That _expression_ … an enormous terrifying heat exploded in her chest as if Anna's gaze were a window into a blacksmith's forge, pulling her in and burning her to a cinder. It almost hurt, it was so intense. She didn't dare even breathe – if she breathed she was certain something monumental – good or bad - would happen.

And then Anna blinked. The fire was doused so violently Elsa actually stumbled forward, smacking her knees painfully on the freezing ice. Everything inside her that had been burning instantly went cold and dark. The loss ripped a gasp out of her throat. For an instant, Anna continued to look at her, expression devastated. Then her entire face went grey and she slumped back onto her heels, eyes closing.

Without the blaze of those eyes, it was easy to see that Anna was a wreck. Her face was drawn and tired. She looked older than she should, her face pared down, that of an adult, albeit a young one. Her hair was more grey than red, the white streak not discernable. It was long, braided tightly into a complex pattern of knots at the back of her head.

She mumbled something without opening her eyes and started to tip sideways. Instinctively Elsa grabbed her before she fell, pulling her into a tight hug. The actual physical contact snapped something inside and she began crying again, calling her sister's name over and over as Anna's weight grew steadily heavier, her body going fully limp within Elsa's grasp. Anna's face where it rested on her shoulder was so cold it made Elsa shiver and for a terrible instant fear the worst, until she felt the small puffs of breath against her collarbone.

Anna's armor, too, was icy cold, the odd metal freezing to the touch. She'd die of exposure out here. They had to get her back to the castle.

The castle. Oh God. People. The kingdom. She couldn't handle any—

As if on cue, the wind brought the sound of voices to her ear. She looked up. In the distance she could make out a squad of soldiers heading in their direction. For a moment she was convinced that they were Weselton or Southern Isles men, come to finish her off, but eventually she made out the familiar crocus motif emblazoned on their armor. Still, what were they coming to do? Who was running the kingdom?

Anna's friend, his odd reindeer pet and Olaf obviously shared her concern, moving to stand between her and the approaching group. It was a brave gesture, enough to coax a brief ember of warmth from the chill inside her. But she couldn't allow them to be hurt on her account.

No. She wasn't going to allow any more people to get hurt. Anna was, bizarrely enough, alive. Somehow she'd been given back to them, changed by some fantastic happenstance, but alive. A true miracle. The young man would look after her. Elsa was sure of it; she'd seen how he'd looked at her back in the ice palace. Hans seemed well out of the picture. They would all be ok.

It was time to leave.

She allowed herself one final look at her sister, trying to memorize everything about this new, changed Anna in the seconds she had. She leaned in and kissed her carefully on the forehead. Anna's scent was unfamiliar but comforting, sweat and sweetness intermingled with an amalgam of strange light metallics. Out of nowhere the white-hot fire inside her flared up again. It was painful. It _hurt_ , God did it hurt, like it was burning her soul. She deserved every ounce of that hurt. Suddenly Elsa didn't want it to stop; it felt like it could burn her to ash, burn her clean.

But no. A lifetime of self-denial made pulling back easy. What she wanted was of no consequence. What mattered was Anna, and the kingdom. In exactly that order.

"Be a great queen, Anna. Be happy. I love you."

She laid her sister down carefully and stood up. The breeze was picking up, chilling her, pulling at her gown. The soldiers were close, but moving awkwardly on the ice. A problem she didn't share. Without a word, she turned and ran.

She made it three steps.

And then she was sliding uncontrollably across the ice, windmilling her arms frantically as she tried to regain her balance. It was no use. Her legs went out from under her and she slammed painfully onto the ice, sliding to a stop in a heap of heavy cloth and winded, bruised body.

 _Wait, what? Cloth?_

Her ice gown was gone. Once again she was wearing the heavy coronation dress that she'd donned a few days and a lifetime ago. That wouldn't do – the garment was enormously heavy and would slow her down drastically. Instinctively she reached for her magic in order to switch it back. For an instant everything felt normal. Then her power gave an odd stutter, something _slammed_ and-

Elsa screamed. It felt like razor-shards of ice were flowing through her blood, slashing every vein in her body to ribbons. She convulsed once, twice, muscles going rigid. She was paralyzed with pain, unable to even breathe. It felt like her heart had seized.

And then, between one instant and the next, the agony stopped. She felt completely normal once again. Confused, she reached inward again, cautiously feeling for her magic. And found a door. It blazed in her mind. White, with a twin blue snowflake pattern. It was _her_ door. Firmly shut. She touched it and was instantly rewarded with a snapping, searing spark of agony that brought tears to her eyes. The message was clear enough.

 _Go away._

She became aware that she was shivering. The cold, both inside and out, felt painful. She felt _cold_. It was completely alien. Her mind rebelled at the realization that even her curse had betrayed her. It was the last straw. She gave a cry of distress as the last remnant of her beleaguered will collapsed with a sad little snap.

 _I can't do this. It's too much. I give up._

Too much didn't make sense. Too much hurt. Too much was awful. She was cried out, tapped out. Too much had happened too quickly. She found that she couldn't even muster the will to stand up. Perhaps it was for the best, to stop fighting. Yes. Give up, be passive, let others make all the choices. Every choice she'd made, every action she'd taken since her coronation had been wrong. Had hurt, maybe _killed_ others. The distress faded away as she felt a profound sense of emptiness settle over her. Who was she, anyway, to act? To even exist? None of it mattered at all.

And besides, it felt best just to lie huddled in on herself. She was _cold_.

xxxxx

"Your Majesty. Are you well?"

As the soldier straightened from a careful but deep obeisance, Elsa vaguely recognized her. It was like looking at someone down a long tunnel. A name eventually presented itself. _Franskjold._ Her captain of the guard.

By all accounts a good soldier. Elsa didn't care. If she ignored her maybe she would go away.

"Your Majesty?" Franskjold knelt down beside her, expression concerned. "By your leave, we need to return you and the others to the castle. It is far too cold to stay out here."

That sparked a response from somewhere inside her. _Anna_. She looked up at the soldier and willed her mouth to move, to make sounds like a human. "Yes – please look after the princess. She needs medical attention right away. She's your sovereign now, Captain. Take care of her."

Franskjold's eyebrows shot up. "We're attending to the princess, your Majesty, don't fear. And, begging your pardon, but you remain our Queen, as far as I know. So please, may I help you up? We must return to the castle."

Elsa sighed, struggling to muster the will to speak. "Just leave me here, Captain. I am not fit to rule. Everyone knows that. You see what I've done. The princess will be an excellent monarch. Let my reign be short and forgotten. I hereby abdicate in her favor." _Besides, when I die, my curse and this winter both die with me._

"One moment, please, your Majesty." The captain got to her feet and moved over to the knot of soldiers clustered around the others. There was a brief, quiet flurry of orders and activity and then Franskjold was marching carefully back over to her. She squatted down onto her haunches.

"Your Majesty, my men are returning all of the others to the safety of the castle to get warm. A runner has been sent to summon a doctor for Princess Anna. She's breathing well, fear not. The others will be held as guests, if it pleases you, including the reindeer and the snow creature."

A trickle of relief went through her. Anna would be safe. _Good._

"Prince Hans will also receive appropriate attention. Under friendly but heavy guard, if you will take my advice? A team has also been assigned to sledge the… sculpture of the princess safely back as well. Unless you wish it otherwise?"

Unwelcome chaotic thoughts and emotions returned at the thought of Hans and, far worse, of frozen Anna, filling the quiet fog in her head with noise. The last few days had spiraled so far out of control, culminating in this last hour of horror. What had happened to her sister? _What_ had her magic done to her? And Hans... the thought of him and the danger he might pose threatened to crack her apathy, but only for a moment. No. Hans didn't matter.

"That's alright, Captain. Do as you think best. Protect my sister, that is my only wish. Now Go. That's an order."

"I agree, your Majesty, it's time to go. And, please, forgive me this affrontery." With that, Franskjold scooped her up into her arms with almost no effort, standing up carefully on the ice.

Elsa was so shocked she didn't know what to do. Before she could speak or try to break free the Captain murmured gently, looking straight ahead, "Please, your Majesty. I _cannot_ leave you here. You know this. I don't claim to understand the happenings of these last few days, but the fact remains that you are our Queen and you still live, despite the plotting of foreigners. Know that I stand by you. As do my men. _Your_ men. Arendelle needs you."

The captain started walking, stepping with utmost care, her arms cradling Elsa with no sign of strain. A traitorous corner of Elsa's mind took pleasure in being held so firmly. It felt safe. It also felt very nice to let someone else make the decisions. She couldn't summon the will to object.

Besides, if they let her live, even if they locked her up for life as punishment for her crimes, maybe she'd be able to see Anna again.

At the thought, some tattered remnant of her spirit stirred. Seeing Anna again _mattered_.


	5. Day Two

**Author's Note:**

BTW This entire story was inspired by an incredible drawing of a badass AU Anna by the supremely talented Johnni Kok.

Also, FYI _Gaudeamus_ is far from abandoned, despite the glacial pace of updates. If all goes to plan (i.e., if life allows) there will be three stories in the end that share a lot of themes etc - Breathe/Gaudeamus, Binary and a third TBA. I _think_ the sun has enough hydrogen left.

A.

* * *

 _ **Day Two**_

"Kai. Would you care to explain exactly _why_ the Council feels that I'd 'benefit' by remaining in the Royal Wing 'for the time being'?"

Kai's flickering glance at the guard outside the door told Elsa everything she needed to know before he answered.

"Your Majesty, based on the doctor's recommendation the Regency Council strongly urges you to remain secluded so that you can have the peace and quiet needed for your recovery. The Council has also expressed some concern for your safety in regard to the general population, given the sudden public knowledge of your... condition. I've been directed to assure you that the Council will attend to all pertinent matters on your behalf until you are feeling yourself again."

Elsa had to admit that Kai delivered the speech well, given that neither of them believed a word of it. She grimaced at the confidence of her opponents. They'd barely bothered with a credible excuse. She had probably spent fifteen or more of her twenty-one years studying the beast called Power and her litter of offspring, Intrigue, Diplomacy and Force. The Council – or whoever was pulling the actual strings at the moment, likely Weselton – wasn't presenting her with a very subtle chess board. On the plus side, they weren't actually trying to kill her. At the moment.

"I see. How is Anna?"

Despite her attempt to make it sound like a simple question, her anxiety must have been obvious in her voice. "The Princess is fine, your Majesty," Kai said. This time his voice was earnest. "Truly. She's still sleeping – the doctor can tell you more but she was extremely exhausted from… well, from whatever befell. But she is doing fine."

Elsa sat down heavily on the chair at her dressing table. It was so hard to think clearly through the fog in her head. It was barely dawn and the last twelve hours had been a haze, starting with the endless walk in Franskjold's arms through the previous evening's gloom, to the cacophony of voices and whirl of torch-lit activity hammering her senses as she was inundated with people once they entered the castle gates.

Pulled from the Captain's arms, almost whimpering as the tiny but warm sense of safety was ripped away, assuaged a little by Franskjold's parting murmur, "Rest tonight, Majesty. You and the Princess will be safe, you have my word." Bundled onto some kind of stretcher by gentle but insistent hands. Wrapped in what felt like a thousand pounds of blankets. Then hustled to her chambers where familiar faces that seemed to belong to complete strangers poked and prodded at her, pulling her free of the accursed gown, fussing like hens over her scrapes and bruises before whisking her into the hottest bath she'd ever had. And all experienced at the end of that long, grey tunnel, like watching actors on a stage. She'd spoken no word, resisted nothing, unable to muster the will to be more than an object, endlessly manipulated to satisfy the meaningless requirements of others.

Lying in the bath, the warmth seeping into her in a way totally novel, her traitor body had drifted off into an exhausted sleep within minutes.

And now far too many hours had passed, each one allowing her opponents more time to plot. She'd awakened in her bed, no comforting blur of forgetfulness even for a second, her brain gearing itself up even in sleep to remind her of recent disasters as soon as conscious thought resumed. Conflicted comfort at being back in her familiar prison instantly consumed by the fear that poked one clear window through the paralyzing apathy in her head. A single imperative. _Anna._

That imperative driving against the apathy, pushing her to summon Kai, to find out the extent of the bad news. Necessary not for herself, who didn't matter, but for Anna. Anna mattered. There were threats against her sister and they needed to be dealt with.

It was difficult to hold herself back from rushing to Anna's room to make sure with her own eyes that her sister was alright. But the harsh reality was that unless she got on her game she'd be Queen in name only and probably not for very long. And only as Queen could she keep Anna safe. If she wanted to have this miraculously given second chance with her sister, she had to stop being stupid. Her place might be at her sister's side, but she needed to be there politically even more urgently than physically.

" _I'd have been beside you in a heartbeat and I never would have left."_

The voice, Anna's voice, was low and soft and full of conviction and _right in her ear_. Elsa jumped straight up out of her chair, stumbling into the arms of an alarmed Kai.

"Did you—" She bit off the question and hastily stepped back. If people found out that she was hearing voices on top of everything else, it certainly wouldn't help her position.

"I'm sorry, Majesty – Elsa - are you alright?"

"Yes—yes. I'm sorry, Kai." She took a deep breath, "You know, I believe the Council is perhaps correct. I will take their wise advice. Please inform them of my gratitude for their efforts on my behalf. I'm obviously still a bit… fatigued. I'll rest, for an hour or so and then, if you could have some breakfast sent up?"

"Of course, Majesty." Kai gave her a bemused half-smile and then bowed, "Will there be anything else?"

"No—oh wait, yes, one thing." Elsa stepped closer and lowered her voice, "I may as well make myself useful during my convalescence. If you could send Franskjold up to see me later this morning, in my private study? Of course I need to thank her for rescuing all of us, but - more constructively - I had promised her some time ago that I'd review the garrison inventory records with her; you know how she's always harping on about the poor state of the equipment. It would seem that I shall finally have time to get to it. Nothing like lists of equipment to soothe the humours."

Kai bowed, "Of course, your Majesty."

"Oh, and Kai? It's not urgent, no need for a formal summons. Just if you happen to bump into her, a word in her ear would be fine."

Kai smiled and nodded, "Of course, Majesty. I'm sure to cross paths with the Captain. It happens all the time. It's such a very small castle, after all."

xxxxx

Despite everything, Elsa was indeed deep in the garrison requisition books when the knock came at her door. Her talk of the accounts had been the merest ruse but in truth she did find numbers soothing. With numbers, sometimes, when you got lucky, they just clicked right into place with a sort of musical beauty. At other times they misbehaved and had to be chivvied along lovingly until they could reach their full potential. The best part was that in and of themselves they didn't – couldn't - lie, and they weren't at all afraid of her.

"Yes. Enter."

The door opened and Franskjold came in, pausing for an instant to whisper something in the guard's ear, receiving a brief nod. Elsa's eyes snapped to her Captain's face, a sudden knot forming in her stomach. She'd had time in the past few hours to analyze recent events and there were a lot of questions, many of which would need to be answered by this individual.

Now, faced with her Captain's intimidating presence, she belatedly realized that her apathy had receded enough for her to begin caring about her own safety, at least insofar as it served protecting her sister. The sudden cessation of her curse, she found, left her with a one hundred and eighty degree switch from fearing for the wellbeing of everyone around her to actually feeling physically _helpless_ for the first time in her life. Captain Franskjold was a skilled, strong soldier. Elsa was not. They were alone, and there were those questions.

Hence the knot in her stomach.

Of course, none of her turmoil showed in her face or demeanor as she gestured Franskjold to take a seat. If she had a magical power left, it was the ability to conceal how she felt. She stared at the captain for a moment, going over her thoughts one last time, weighing probabilities and finding no flaw in her overall logic. She just needed to understand the strength of the materials she had at hand before she could decide on Plan A or Plan B. She leaned forward.

"Captain. I wanted to thank you for your actions yesterday."

Franskjold bowed slightly, "No thanks due, your Majesty. My effectiveness over the last two days has been… shall we say sub-par. By which I really mean treasonably incompetent. For that I must seek your pardon."

Elsa's eyebrow rose. "Interesting. We'll come back to that. But first, I have a question for you."

"Of course, Majesty."

"Is there a guard outside that door, right now?"

"Absolutely, Majesty. The orders from the Council concerning the protection of the Royal family were most clear. Guard postings around the clock for both the Queen and the Princess."

"I see. And is my Captain of the Guard currently sitting across from me?"

Franskjold didn't miss a beat, "Of course not, Your Majesty. Once the guard roster was finalized, the Captain was assigned important and time-consuming duties elsewhere. I hear, however, that she's suffering from a dreadful bowel complaint this morning and has had to sequester herself for the general good. At any rate, fear not. Corporal Timsk out there is a very alert fellow. There's no way he'd miss spotting anyone entering or exiting the study."

Elsa nodded, "But of course. He's always been exemplary. And I do hope the Captain recovers soon."

Franskjold nodded graciously.

Elsa continued, "Very well. In the brief time we have while you aren't here, I need to clarify the happenings of the last forty-eight hours, from your point of view. My own experience of events was… not comprehensive."

She fixed the Captain with a cool gaze, "It boils down to a simple question. Are you _mine_ , Captain? Because, to be blunt, I really don't know. I think perhaps you need to convince me."

Franskjold grimaced and nodded. She considered the question for a moment, then said, "Your Majesty, I've served the royal family for most of my life. I've watched you and the Princess grow up, if, no disrespect meant, you can call what you had a childhood. I obeyed the former King and Queen and I have obeyed the Regency Council since your parents' passing."

"After the King and Queen were lost – and perhaps even before that, I suppose - I served for one reason and one reason only. And that was to ensure that I was in the best position I could possibly be in to serve you and the Princess directly, when the time arrived. To me, you and she are the hope for our kingdom. You are the way forward."

Franskjold paused.

"And when the time finally arrived, I instantly failed you both."

Elsa studied her. "Explain."

"I failed to follow, find and protect you when you left the castle. I failed to follow, find and protect the Princess when she went after you. I followed her orders, like a fool, and then, like a greater fool, I followed the orders given by her _delegate_." She spat the last word out.

"Southern Isles - I refuse to give that _dirt_ name or title - ordered us to help the populace deal with the blizzard, which, given the strength of the castle garrison and our familiarity with Arendelle, did make some sense. I was uncomfortable with leaving the rescue efforts in foreign hands, of course, so I sent a small squad of scouts after the Southern Isles and Weselton contingent with orders to help as they could."

She leaned forward, her face suddenly full of leashed fury, "That squad has yet to report back, your Majesty. And I do not believe they will. They were good men."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "I must hand it to Weselton and Southern Isles, Majesty. They connived very efficiently. They must have left men behind to provide distractions – serious fires kept breaking out in the town and I repeatedly needed to be on scene. It kept us all very busy and we barely avoided loss of life to the townsfolk. So I was away from the castle both when you and the Princess were brought back. By the time my men got news to me of happenings – the foreigners were very careful to keep our men out of earshot during all of the Council discussions - the happenings had happened. I was playing idiot's catch-up for almost six crucial hours."

"My performance was unacceptable, Majesty. If I felt there were anyone else to recommend as my replacement, I would tender my resignation immediately. But as it is I don't, and since last evening things have become more… confused for everyone. Including our opposite numbers. I think we can play that to our advantage."

She leaned back. "So. There you have it, your Majesty. If I still have your trust, unearned as it must be, I am yours to command."

Elsa had spent enough of her life living with self-disgust to detect the real thing. Yet Franskjold was still meeting her gaze squarely. No excuse-making, no rationalization. The material looked solid.

Plan A, then.

xxxxx

Her plans were underway and there was a breathing space and Elsa couldn't wait any longer and now she was stuck outside Anna's door talking to this _annoying_ man.

"Your Majesty, you must understand—"

For the fiftieth time since waking up Elsa found herself grateful for the absence of her curse, which would definitely have frozen solid everything around her, including this pompous windbag.

With an effort of will she kept her voice even, "I _must_ understand absolutely nothing, doctor, except that, you see, I am the Queen and _you_ are standing between me and my sister."

She brushed past him and pushed through the doors into Anna's room. Hurrying to the bedside, she took in the pallor of the face lying on the pillows. The covers were drawn right up to Anna's chin as if just waiting to be pulled up the rest of the way and she was lying _far_ too still. Elsa couldn't even tell if she was breathing. In her mind she instantly had her sister dead again and buried - with herself leaping from the nearest tower immediately after - before she spotted the miniscule rise and fall of the covers.

As a measure of rationality reasserted itself, she was able to take in that at least the sweat and grime had been cleaned from Anna's face, though her hair still looked filthy and hadn't been released from its complicated braiding. Most importantly, Anna's expression was peaceful, the tortured face Elsa had seen out on the ice relaxed in sleep.

Elsa had always thought her sister beautiful but this revenant Anna was by all measures gorgeous. Whatever had happened to her, it had honed the roundness from her face, emphasizing her wide cheekbones, the enormous wide-set eyes and strong, triangular chin. Her lightly freckled skin, through the pallor, was slightly tanned in places as if some parts of her face were normally covered from the sun and others weren't.

As Elsa reached forward to brush back an errant strand of red-grey hair that had escaped the braids, however, she noticed the metal at Anna's throat.

 _What the-?_ "Doctor!" it was a snarl.

The little man scurried to her side, "Yes, your Majesty?"

She turned and fixed him with a furious glare. "Would you care to explain to me why the Princess – my _sister_ , who is quite _ill_ \- is still wearing _armor_? In bed?

The doctor twitched under her angry gaze, "Well, your Majesty, you see… that is what I was trying to tell you… we—you see, we cannot seem to get her armor off. But believe me the Princess is _fine_. Fine. She just—"

"What do you mean, _cannot_?"

The doctor looked away, obviously wishing to be anywhere else. "You see, it… won't…"

"Won't _what_? For God's sake speak up. Doctor, if you're endangering her…" The threat hung in the air.

"It won't let us."

"I _beg_ your pardon?"

At that moment Gerda came bustling in carrying a pair of bedwarmers. The doctor stared at her pleadingly. She casually nudged Elsa to one side as she slipped one of the warmers into the bed beside the sleeping woman, pulling out a now-cold one.

"What the doctor means is that whenever anyone tries to fiddle with all that fancy metal stuck on my poor pumpkin, a bunch of tiny lights light up in it – like lightning bugs stuck in there, a marvelous red color, indeed they are. Then a lovely voice, coming from where, I am quite sure I cannot tell you, says something very cross in the most outlandish language."

She shuffled around to the other side of the bed and switched the other warmer. The doctor was nodding his head in vigorous agreement.

Gerda continued, "Same thing with her hair, poor lamb. Anyone moves to undo those braids and that voice gets terribly upset. All we're allowed to do, it seems, is wash her face and warm her up."

Elsa looked at the doctor, then back at her housekeeper. "Gerda. Have you been into the wine stores? Perhaps both of you?"

"Heavens, child, no. Don't be a goose. The poor doctor has been doing everything he can. Why, the third – or was it the fourth - time, after we'd got more used to the lights and the voice – my, there _was_ a bit of jumping about in here a few hours ago, I must say – the brave man ignored all the hoopla and _well_. I don't know how to describe it."

The doctor gestured with his right hand. For the first time Elsa noticed that all of his fingers and his thumb had the ends bandaged.

"That time, the infernal thing burned my hand. There was a flash where I was touching the metal, and there you have it. Burned fingers. Quite painful, really."

Gerda piped up again, "Coo, it's a good thing 'twere only the doctor and myself in here. They'd be surely calling for the exorcists otherwise." She patted Elsa on the shoulder as she bustled by, "While we've all seen a sight stranger than that, over the years. Don't you fret, dear. It'll all get explained, or it'll just stay magic. Whichever God wills."

Elsa said, "But you're _certain_ that Anna is alright? She's not in danger?"

The doctor nodded. "Correct, your Majesty. She is breathing well. She has a large lump on the back of her head, but your sister has a remarkably thick skull. I've treated her for much worse over the years. I believe much of what we're seeing here is simple exhaustion and dehydration."

"So what can we do?"

"We let her sleep, your Majesty. Gerda has been giving her warm broth, a very little at a time. It's slow but it adds up. Please rest easy. You can leave her in our care. Perhaps your Majesty should return to your chambers and lie down a little longer? You were quite fatigued."

Elsa looked at the two for a moment. Earnest, kind, worried faces that she'd known for years, authority figures whose advice she'd always followed. Two of the very few people that had made up her entire tiny social world for most of her life.

 _"Near as I can figure, the only reason you got locked away had to have been something about your powers and me, specifically. Everyone else in the castle was allowed to see you sometimes. What I can't figure out is, what did I do? I must have done something when we were really small but I just can't remember. It's all muddled up. Something seriously bad."_

This time Elsa's body simply stopped obeying her and froze as she listened to the soft, intent voice in her ear. Anna's voice was so terribly sad, but there wasn't an ounce of recrimination. Just a simple acceptance of having done wrong, of having brought her exile from Elsa on herself. It shredded Elsa's heart to hear it. This time there was no closed door to muffle harsh truths, no pillow to put over her head to cut out all sound.

 _You don't deserve a second chance. Monster._

She gave herself a mental slap. Her self-hate wasn't going to help Anna. Neither was meekly scuttling off back to her room.

 _Stop. I know I don't._

She realized that she still hadn't moved and that Gerda and the doctor were both looking at her now with worried expressions so she said, "I'm sorry. I was just… remembering something." Then she forced a smile and made an effort to remember the niceties. She said, "Very well. Thank you, doctor. Thank you Gerda. If you'd be so kind, I'd like to spend some time alone with Anna. Gerda, I'll take over the feeding duties."

Instantly both of them began objecting.

"Dearie-"

"Oh, but your Majesty, I don't think-"

Elsa raised a hand to forestall the protests. "Stop. I _insist_. I will send for you right away if there's need. Now, please, leave us."

Her voice had an edge to it that surprised her. It was a command. She'd always obeyed everyone when she was a child but she wasn't a child any longer. And in truth, she realized, she didn't care in the slightest if they approved or disapproved. She was the Queen and unless her plans failed and they stripped her of that, she'd do what she thought best, guided by the simplest set of ethics - as long as her actions helped Anna and made her sister happy, they were good. And with her curse perhaps gone or in at least in abeyance, the core fear motivating her entire life had lost its teeth. If she could be with her sister without endangering her, then that was what she'd do and damn everything else straight to Hell.

xxxxx

"Here, Anna. I'm going to feed you a little of this broth. I've heard the stories about your appetite for years, so I'm going to assume you're starving. And wherever you've been, it's obvious you've not been eating properly." She smiled, "If I manage to stay Queen I'll have to issue an edict expressly ordering you to fatten up."

Elsa was almost… happy. In the haven of Anna's room, the world was shut out. She'd locked the door, and they were safe, for now. Thirteen years of denial, of never letting herself think about how wonderful it would be to be together again, especially in this room that they'd shared a thousand years ago. For once a locked room didn't feel like a prison, but a sanctuary.

She picked up a spoon and scooped a little of the broth. The smell wafted into her nose and her stomach rumbled in protest. She frowned. "Looks like I need some of this too. I couldn't eat any breakfast. Lord knows when I last actually ate." It was odd. She'd felt no need of food up in her ice palace.

She brought the spoon carefully to Anna's lips. They were disturbingly pale, and chapped.

"Here you go," she said as she tipped the spoon. Broth pooled between the closed lips and trickled down both sides of Anna's face. "Oh! Sorry! I'm kind of new at this." She reached for a cloth and carefully mopped up the spill. She felt awkward and a bit like a mother hen but she had the sneaking suspicion that mothering her little sister was something that she was going to enjoy.

"Let's try that again, shall we? Pardon me for this,"

She used her thumb to gently pull on Anna's lower lip, rewarded with a glimpse of bright white teeth.

 _Wow, they're perfect. How on earth? No-one has perfectly straight teeth._

Yet another mystery, another story for Anna to tell her. This thought led her rapidly down a rabbit-hole of pleasant fantasy. Sitting together in front of a fire, walking with Anna through the gardens, talking, talking and talking. Touching every now and then to confirm that the other was really real and really there. And laughing – they'd do a lot of laughing.

Until the reality of Anna's haggard countenance wormed its way into her thoughts. Suddenly fantasy-Anna scowled, drew away, began shouting at her, accusing her…

 _Oh God, what if she hates me for doing this to her? For wherever I sent her?_

 _Then you spend the rest of your life apologizing and making it up to her. You need to do that anyway, after the life you've forced on her. Monster._

 _No._ Elsa shook off the persistent spiral of self-loathing and focused on the task at hand, tilting the broth gently, drop by drop, into Anna's mouth. A little spilled past Anna's lips and she chased it with her finger, collecting it and bringing it to her own mouth. It tasted even better than it smelled. It had the faintest metallic tang. _God_ , it tasted good.

"Alright, I'm making a new rule. I give you a spoonful and then I get one. I'm no good to you if I faint from hunger, am I?"

For the next few minutes, she sat beside Anna, spooning broth into each of them in turn. She realized she'd started humming, a ridiculous, childish tune for which she couldn't recall the words.

After maybe a dozen spoonfuls or so, Anna's breath hitched and she coughed. Before Elsa could become alarmed, Anna took a deeper breath and let it out with a quiet sigh, turning her head slightly to the side and licking her lips.

"Dankon, amo…" it was a mumbled whisper, accompanied by the ghost of a smile before her face smoothed out again and her breathing steadied back into the rhythm of one deeply asleep.

xxxxx

The first thing to register was that she had to pee. _Urgently_. The second thing was that she was still armored, which was going to make peeing a lot more complicated.

After that, things just got weird.

She was burning up, for one, which didn't jibe at all with her last recollection of being so miserably cold. Something was pressing down on her whole body and she was sweating horribly. There was only so much thermal regulation a light recon suit could manage without anywhere to vent heat and hers was obviously overloaded by whatever was covering her.

In a nod to the more familiar, she was lying flat on her back again, only this time the surface was soft and yielding and obviously not made of ice and snow. Cautiously, she cracked open her eyes.

Her pupil HUD flashed once and started scrolling.

 _#Anja. Welcome back. Stay still for a moment and let me brief you. Blink to confirm.#_

Anja blinked once, slowly.

# _Physical: you've been unconscious approximately twenty standard hours due to mild concussion and aftereffects of prolonged spacing. No permanent damage, but you'll require further rest and, more importantly, nourishment. A thorough wash wouldn't hurt you either.#_

 _#Location: we're planetside, unknown GM-class. Gravity is 0.93 standard and atmospheric respiratory conditions are excellent; minimal pollutants. As to exactly where we are or how we got here, I hate to admit it, but… I can't say. My awareness experienced a discontinuity – I have no record of how we arrived here from the coordinates where the ship was destroyed. Zero beacon contact suggests we are outside Concordat space. Without beacon contact I will need a sequence of astrographical observations in order to even have a chance at determining our position. Confirm.#_

She gave another blink.

 _#More immediately, we are inside a primitive stone building, possibly a local fortress. Observational data indicates a precontact human-trace civilization. Indigenes show no signs of possessing powered tech or even ballistics. Military personnel appear to employ blades and shields, probably iron or steel. Confirm.#_

It took longer for Anja to blink this time.

 _#The locals have been trying to care for you. They have been feeding you a liquid nutrient solution. It is metabolizing well. They don't seem hostile. In fact, the human-trace female currently sleeping in the chair to your right has not left your side in over three hours. It would suggest that she has some concern for your welfare.#_

Anja cautiously slid her eyeballs to the side without moving her head, then stifled a groan.

 _Of course it would have to be her._ A sour feeling rose in the pit of her stomach as she observed the sleeping woman. Her completely impossible yet uncanny resemblance to Elia'n, now that Anja was more prepared for it, was less painful, more of an irritant, like being poked in the chest with a dull spike. It didn't endear the woman to her at all.

 _At least she's not blubbering. That's a first._

Anja looked around. She was lying in middle of the largest, most elaborate rack she'd ever heard of, let alone seen, buried under a thick covering of fabric so brightly patterned it made her eyes hurt. The rest of the room was equally gaudy. The furnishings were multicolored and elaborately carved and the walls covered in bright, painted designs. The one window was enormous, showing a section of grey stone wall and blue sky beyond. Bright sunlight was streaming in past thick curtains that had been pulled aside. To her spaceside eyes everything was far too large, and the waste of perfectly usable space almost criminal.

 _#Strategic: judging from this woman's behavior and that of others, it almost appears they believe you to be someone they know. I realize that's impossible, but… listen, Anja. We've already broken almost every precontact protocol there is. We have no resources beyond our built-in A.R.D. skills and capabilities. You're too weak to get very far if we attempt to flee. You may need to play along and make nice with the locals until we can devise an extraction plan. And yes, I know that precontact interaction is forbidden but I do not see any options. Confirm.#_

Blink.

 _Mother Night, what a mess. That said, kakking in space would have been a Cursed useless death. Alright. Miraculously it would appear you've had a stay of execution, Arundel. Like it or not._

 _#Communication: their language matches nothing in my data; I wasn't engineered for stand-alone linguistics. However, I have been observing and collating. I can give you guesses on some basic words and phrases. For example, the female's name appears to be 'Deres Majestet'. Greeting is 'hallo'. Thank you is 'takk'. That's it for now. Confirm.#_

Anja gave a final blink. _Right_. First things first, it was time to escape this inferno before she melted. She sat up, pushing the suffocating cloth away from her. The air of the room was pleasantly cool by contrast as it circulated into her armor. She let out a huff of relief. She glanced over at the woman just in time to see her startle awake. _Might as well give it a try. Hit her with everything._

"Hallo, Deres Majestet." She gestured to the bed, herself, then placed a fist respectfully over her heart and gave a nod, "Takk."

And, yes, well, she should have expected it. The woman stared at her wide-eyed for exactly one second and then burst into tears. She flung herself at Anja, pulling her into another utterly inappropriate hug. Thankfully, Anja was able to stomp on her instincts in time and GARDA didn't interpret the woman's action as an assault. Otherwise it would have been the woman's last ever gesture of affection or anything else.

 _Didn't we already do this?_

The woman kept mumbling between sobs, "Jeg er så lei meg, Onna. Jeg er så lei meg… Dette er min feil."

 _#I believe it is an apology. Also, she is using a variant of your bond-name. Hypothesis: it is the bond-name of the person they believe you to be. They have all been referring to you in this manner. Evidently they treat bond-names more loosely than do we.#_

Anja extracted herself from the woman's grip as gently as she could, fighting hard against her desire to shove her away. It was difficult – the woman didn't want to let go – but eventually Anja regained a few precious decimetres of personal space. Finally the woman sat back on the edge of the bed, snuffling and looking at her apologetically with those big, sad, ice-blue eyes. Ugh. Anja wanted to slap her.

Anja pointed to herself. It was time to set straight some points of etiquette before she ended up shaming herself through involuntary host-assault. She was who she was. In her book, there was acceptable behavior and there was unacceptable and she'd be Cursed if she was going to go along with some kind of who-are-you-really charade. If there was confusion, it was time to clarify.

"Major Titanja y Arundel." She gave a slight, formal bow as best she could while sitting. She pointed to the woman. "Deres Majestet." Then back to herself once more, "Major Titanja y Arundel." Hopefully that was clear enough.

"Onna? Er du ok? Trenger du ikke kjenner meg igjen?" said the woman, confused.

Apparently it wasn't. The use of her almost-bond-name by this stranger was really starting to anger her. Even if it was mistaken identity this woman had _no_ right to such intimacy. Who did she think she was?

 _#I believe no is 'nei'. Yes might be 'ja'. Since you're going to ignore my wise advice.#_

Anja put a lot of emphasis into it, shaking her head firmly, " _NEI_ , Deres Majestet. _Nei_ 'Onna'." Pointing to herself again and nodding, " _Ja_ Titanja." To Mother Night with it, she'd accept use of her formal name if she had to, unutterably inappropriate as that was. She knew it shouldn't, but dealing with foreign social interactions always made her upset. She'd never done well on the xenocultural exams for exactly this reason. Which was why she was a soldier and not a Cursed diplomat.

"Titanja?" The accent was odd but _good enough_. Anja nodded, "Ja. Titanja."

The woman seemed to need a little time to absorb this, and looked down, wringing her hands, obviously confused. In the pause Anja's bladder reminded her enthusiastically of its needs. Gaah. She _had_ to go and go soon. She checked her suit status – as she'd figured, it couldn't process any more waste without a flushing. If her chronometer was to be believed she'd been wearing the Cursed thing for at least ninety-six standard hours, counting shiptime before she'd got herself blown up.

 _Mother Night, I must have set a record for surviving unaugmented spacing. Now there's an upside, if I can ever get back home to brag about it._

Now, how to communicate something so basic as needing to urinate without looking like a complete idiot?

"Uh, Deres Majestet?"

The woman looked up, said cautiously, "Bare Elsa, Onn—Titanja."

Anja steeled herself, pointed at her nethers, grimaced and then did a tiny, seated gotta-go dance, causing the bed to bounce. Instantly her face flamed red with embarrassment.

She sighed. _So much for not looking like an idiot._

For a second the woman looked absolutely scandalized. Then she burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hands in an odd, twitchy gesture. Fortunately, the normal rules of mortification didn't apply - Anja was already maxed out and beyond caring. And she had to _GO_.

The woman stood, still chuckling, and held out a hand. Anja resolutely looked past the overfamiliarity and took the offered grip, which was just as well, as she was a more than a little wobbly once she got to her feet. Expecting that the woman would let go once she was steady, she was appalled when the firm grip didn't slacken as the woman led her across the room to a door, which she opened.

"Vil du trenger hjelp?"

 _#I believe she's asking if you will need assistance.#_

"NEI, Deres Majestet, Mother Night NO! Uh… takk."

The grip on her hand tightened. "Elsa. Nei Majestet. Bare Elsa." The woman's voice was very soft, uncertain. And sad. Very sad.

 _Ohhhhh._

Anja turned and managed to disengage her hand. Exploding bladder or not, uncomfortable foreign customs or not, Curse it, she didn't need to be a boor. She stepped back and offered a proper bow, affording Elsa a depth and count as to an honored host.

"Takk, Elsa."

Elsa brightened, smiled and returned her an elaborate dipping motion that Anja had never seen before. Then Anja's bladder's need cut the niceties short. She scurried into the room beyond and closed the door, as politely as she could.

xxxxx

Elsa paced.

 _What on earth happened to her?_

Anna's memory seemed to have been affected by whatever had happened. She had barely shown any sign of recognition when she awoke, and no affection. Just that cold, formal… distance. Almost _hostile_. The Anna she knew – or rather, knew _of_ – would have been much more engaged, angry or not. And she certainly should have recognized her own sister.

It was almost like the woman was a stranger who simply looked – exactly - like Anna. Up until she'd made that _face_ and done that adorable bathroom shimmy. And then that so-serious bow. So odd, but the way she'd said Elsa's name? No. Elsa had heard that voice say her name through her door her entire life. That part was 100% Anna.

Even so, there was a knot in her stomach. What if Anna's mind _had_ been affected? What if she didn't remember anything of Elsa, of her life here – as if she'd suffered again what the trolls had done to her as a child? She didn't even seem to have a proper grasp of _language_ , for heaven's sake. She'd spoken like an infant. Or a foreigner. Had that been erased too?

 _Yes, that would explain it. Wherever she's been, she's fallen afoul of some wicked magic that has muddled her memories again._

Elsa paced back and forth, arms clenched across her middle as she thought. She needed advice. Yes. The trolls – they might be able to determine what had happened to her. And undo it. Purpose filled her.

She strode to the hall doors and yanked them open, startling the guard standing outside.

"Fetch my servants, please. Tell them that the Princess is awake and that I wish to speak with them here right away. Oh, and have a proper lunch brought as well. Sandwiches. Lots of sandwiches." She slammed the doors shut before the confused guard could reply.

xxxxx

Anja's first problem was figuring out where the san was, or, actually, what it even looked like. The head was insanely spacious for a single person and far more decorative than functional, containing a long vanity filled with dozens of bottles arranged in front of several mirrors. Light spilled into the room through a set of windows high up in one wall. In the center of the room was an enormous elaborate tank, evidently for bathing. The sight of it squeezed a lustful groan from her. To submerge in _that_ and just… soak.

Maybe this planet had upsides after all.

The predominant emotion she experienced when she finally identified the san was horror. It consisted of a hole. In a stone bench. Covered with an intricately carved wooden lid.

It. Was. A. Hole.

Anja couldn't bring herself to look down, afraid of what she might see. There was nothing she could do about the very faint but repugnant smell, though. She could hear water splashing, far below.

" _Fascinating. They do not seem to reprocess waste. At least, not at point of origin."_

"Mother Night, I can't use this. Kill me now, GARDA. Just do it. Two hundred milliamps across the heart. Go."

" _Don't be so squeamish. Get on with it. Does the door to this chamber have a lock?"_

"Um… here. There's a sort of metal latch." Anja fumbled with it for an instant, the operation made more difficult by her increasingly desperate dance, then it clicked into place. "Got it. Pull the seals, quick, _quick!_ "

With a set of clicks and hisses the seals and latching on her armor released. _Blessed_ freedom. She had the mid-guard pieces off in five seconds and almost cried with relief as she made use of the disgusting facilities. Despite the horrifying primitiveness, it worked just fine.

No sooner had her bladder shut up then her stomach let rip with an angry, gurgling growl. Yeah. Famished wasn't a strong enough word. She was starving, and parched. Plus, she stank and itched all over. That glorious tank beckoned. Perhaps she could convince Crying Woman, er - Elsa to get it filled.

 _Right. Pantomime time._

She reluctantly strapped back into her armor and resealed it, then flipped the latch and cautiously cracked open the door to recon the outer room. No point in being stupid. It seemed alright. All she could see was Elsa pacing back and forth, a worried expression on her face, arms hugged close to her sides. She opened the door the rest of the way and stepped out, giving Elsa what she hoped was a friendly but don't-touch-me sort of smile. The last thing she wanted was more hugging and crying. If the woman didn't crush her armor first, she'd rust it out.

She failed, though, to prevent her smile widening as Elsa's face lit up like the sun in response. So strange to see such a look of open pleasure on a snow-pale face normally so immobile—

 _Stop it. It's not her._

Her smile died instantly. Elsa's expression instantly shifted to one of concern and she rushed forward, hands held out. In a panic to avoid yet more inappropriate contact, Anja took a hasty step backward, bashing her shoulder on the edge of the door and staggering awkwardly through and back into the head. Evidently cautioned by her retreat, Elsa moved forward more slowly, hands held up, palms forward in what was obviously meant to be a placating manner.

There was a sudden shooting pain in Anja's skull and her vision went dark. Elsa and everything around her vanished and it was a Sutili warrior advancing on her, inner appendages held up in front, ready to lash out in an eyeblink and hold so that the fighting arms could spear into her body, ripping her apart into bloody chunks; transformed in seconds from a living, thinking, feeling being into meat. She could _hear_ the dull splats as gobbets of herself struck the walls and floor. Meat. Meat that wouldn't get to cool entirely before being shredded further, bones, organs and all, into efficient, appreciative Sutili gullets…

" _Titanja!"_

 _Oh, Night, oh Night, oh Night. Why didn't they scavenge? They always scavenge. I should have been lunch. Makes no sense._

Her HUD lit up behind her eyelid, _#BREATHE. Focus on your breathing. Do it NOW.#_

 _Can't..._

 _#Breathing! NOW!#_

Reality reformed slowly around her. She was curled up tight, on her side, in a fetal position on the floor. She was making desperate gasping noises as she tried to get air. Her lungs weren't working.

 _Right. Breathe._

With a huge effort she focused on making her body breathe. After half a minute she could feel her heartrate begin to fall. Gradually, hesitantly, her autonomic nervous functions began to settle down.

 _#Good, Anja. Your vitals are normalizing. You pulled out of that one quickly. Well done.#_

"Yeah, it's ok. I'm fine now." she whispered.

"Titanja! Titanja, kan du fortelle meg hva som er galt!?" Elsa was kneeling beside her, _touching_ her again.

 _#I think she is asking what is wrong. I'm assuming you don't want to try to explain crystallizing neuromyelitis to her. Try 'Jeg er ok.'#_

Anja managed to roll into a sitting position, leaning against the doorframe, shivering with reaction. Her breathing was still shaky. With a sudden rush of irritation, she grabbed Elsa's hands and held them weakly away. She met Elsa's concerned look with an angry one of her own.

"Elsa. _Jeg er ok_." She let go of Elsa's hands. "Jeg er ok."

Elsa looked hurt, and then like she wanted to argue, but was interrupted by a discreet knock at the double doors on the far wall. At the sound her face went instantly composed and distant, like a mask had dropped. _Armor_. Like the knock was a threat of some kind. Alarmed, Anja rolled back onto her feet, moving as quickly as she could to stand with her back to the large window. A quick glance outside, however, wasn't reassuring – if she needed to escape this way, she'd be airborne for a lot longer than was comfortable. The fortress was _huge_.

Elsa had risen more gracefully. She gave Anja an obviously forced smile and made what appeared to be a "stay put" gesture. Then she went to the doors, opened them and slipped through, but not before Anja caught a glimpse of the crowd clustered beyond.

" _Your heartrate is spiking again. I really don't think their intent is hostile, Anja. Try to calm down."_

She forced herself to relax. She was still shaky from the seizure and, despite the bedrest, exhausted. It felt like she hadn't rested properly in months. To Night with it, if these people were interested in befriending her, she'd oblige. If she had time to regain her strength, maybe she and GARDA could figure out how to get clear of this mess. If, if, if. Lots of ifs.

She didn't know what Elsa had said to the people outside, but when they started filing into the room Anja almost wanted to laugh. They all wore ridiculously serious expressions and moved as quietly as possible, with a bare minimum of speech. Not a single one of them made eye contact with her. Apparently Elsa was worried that she'd spook or seize again. Of course, not an unreasonable worry, given how she'd been behaving.

They had brought rations. Several large covered trays that smelled delicious were placed on a small table. A parade of women passed into the bathing room carrying steaming buckets. The sound of splashing brought a tingle to Anja's toes – they were filling the tank! Her dream of having an actual _bath_ might come true.

Elsa was deep in conversation with one of the others, a heavyset male dressed in extremely frilly, multilayered clothes. For that matter, all of these people wore an enormous amount of clothing. Barely any skin showed anywhere except for faces and hands. All of the women save Elsa wore some kind of fabric cap under which they tucked their hair. The males were bareheaded.

The other thing that suddenly hit Anja was the smell. As the people moved about in the room, various body odors wafted to and fro, mixing unpleasantly with the much more appealing smell of the food. She knew she didn't smell like a heartflower herself at the moment, but she had no intention of remaining in such a state. These people didn't even seem to notice. It was a bit overwhelming. Ugh. Everything about this world was so disturbingly… organic. She felt a sudden longing for Holt. Cold, white and minimal. _Clean_.

Watching the interactions in the room, Anja was suddenly struck by the incredibly obvious. Elsa was the one in charge. Whenever she talked to someone, they would either bow or perform that dipping motion, depending on gender. Odd that they had different forms like that. Also odd that the females were dressed so differently than the males. The floor-length cloth garments looked warm enough, but it would be almost impossible to run or fight efficiently wearing so much loose material. Granted the men's outfits were also decidedly elaborate, with superfluous bits of cloth hanging here and there, but they were at least marginally functional.

She could almost hear her Embedded-Recon training instructor droning on about societal variations and the need to be sensitive and flexible when interacting. Human-trace cultures were always so eager to differentiate their members along the silliest of lines. Gender, race, whatever. Why it took the threat of extinction for everyone to smarten up was beyond her. Obviously this particular society had never fought anything like the Sutili. Count that as a huge blessing for them but it probably meant that she'd have to navigate an illogical and overly complicated social hierarchy. She sighed. She sucked at that stuff.

 _Open mind, Anja, open mind. Different world, different rules. You can do this. You can hate it, but you can do it._

xxxxx

Elsa closed the door behind the last of the maids with a sigh of relief. Groups of people, even servants, always made her tense. Kai hadn't improved her mood, harping on incessantly about the political risks she opened herself up to in being alone with the Princess. Hans might still be in a coma but his accusations against her hadn't been completely resolved. There was still too much confusion.

She'd had to make it very clear to Kai that her first priority was seeing to Anna's health. After she was satisfied that Anna was well enough in body and spirit to be left with anyone other than herself – and she was less certain now than she'd been half an hour ago – only then would she let her out of her sight.

Anna was still standing in front of the window, warily watching the door. Elsa had been observing her out of the corner of her eye during the bustle. Anna had remained utterly still, but tensed, poised on the balls of her feet and ready to move. Her scan of the view outside hadn't escaped Elsa's notice. It was as if she'd been looking for escape routes.

Whatever had befallen her sister, it had obviously left her emotionally scarred. So far Elsa had seen almost no sign of the carefree Anna she'd heard so much about and whom she remembered as a child. This Anna was perpetually on edge, expecting to be attacked. Her terrifying seizure of a few moments ago had come out of nowhere, prompted, it seemed, by nothing more than Elsa moving too quickly in her direction. And once it was over, that cold, distant pushing away, like earlier. Elsa could take a hint. Anna didn't want to be touched, at least not by her. That hurt terribly. Completely justified, given what she'd put her sister through, but still, it hurt.

Elsa took a deep breath. This wasn't about her. She could accommodate. She'd accommodate _anything_.

"Would you like some late lunch? You must be absolutely starving," she said, gesturing carefully to the laden table and pair of chairs.

Anna looked at the table, then at her. Then her eyes flickered sideways, toward the bathroom and back to the table. The most adorably conflicted expression grew on her face. Elsa couldn't help it, she burst out laughing again. Another purely Anna moment, unable to decide between stuffing her face and taking up semi-permanent residence in a hot bath. Elsa had heard all the stories.

For a second Anna looked surprised, and then offended. Which was even funnier and made Elsa laugh harder. Oh God, offended Anna was, if anything, even cuter than conflicted Anna. Elsa had to turn away in order to regain her composure.

When she had mostly calmed down she moved over to the table and selected two of the larger sandwiches. Turning back toward her sister, she had to fight down the giggles caused by Anna's still haughty expression.

She said, "I'm sorry for laughing. How about we let you combine the two activities?"

Anna showed no sign of comprehension so she held out the sandwiches. Anna's eyes zeroed in on them like a starved wolf. Still holding out the food, Elsa moved over to the bathroom and backed in through the door while making come-hither gestures as best she could.

"You can soak in the bath and get washed while these keep you from starving. We can eat the rest once you're clean, alright? I will wait for you."

Anna didn't reply but she followed her into the bathroom readily enough. Elsa backed over to the steaming tub and placed the sandwiches on the stand beside it. She gestured to the sandwiches, then to Anna, then to the tub. She made washing motions and then pointed to the sandwiches and made eating motions. Suddenly Anna rolled her eyes and slapped herself lightly on the forehead.

She grimaced wryly at Elsa. "Pardonu, mi estas idioto." She gave another one of those cute bows. "Thank you, Elsa."

Elsa gave her a curtsey and a smile in reply. "You are very welcome. Take your time, there's no hurry."

xxxxx

It was at times like this that Anja regretted being a pretty-much-atheist. It felt rude not to be thanking some god or another for the blessed deep warm tank of water in which she was currently submerged. Not to mention, as she burped a contented bubble, offering thanks for the fantastic if strange food she'd just devoured. Whatever those things were, she was in love. She wanted more. Many, many more.

She had to admit that the room was pleasant. The sun was shining in and the colors were bright and cheerful, now that she was getting accustomed to them. The room was obviously meant for comfort. There were several garments hanging on a rack nearby; evidently meant for use after getting out of the tank. Presumably they thought she'd want to change from armor into something more comfortable. She glanced down to her left, flexed her hand thoughtfully. While the thought was tempting, no. Too soon, too dangerous. She needed more time to fully understand everything here before she'd risk that.

She stretched out, feeling sore muscles pop. There were several kinds of soaping agent on the stand next to the tub. It took a little pleasant trial and error but she eventually sorted out which items were for scrubbing and soaping her skin, and which were for washing her disgusting hair. She'd stacked her armor against the door and jammed one of the chairs up against the primitive latch for good measure; the last thing she wanted was Elsa or anyone else to come wandering in and see her unbraided. Given the complete lack of propriety demonstrated by these people, she wouldn't be surprised if blithely walking in on strangers whose hair was down was a common occurrence.

At any rate, the risk of embarrassing interruption was warranted, given that the upside was being allowed such a decadent bathe. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd – voluntarily – submerged herself entirely in any liquid, let alone beautiful, glorious steaming water. Not since her parents died, for certain, so definitely more than seven cycles. Probably a lot longer than that. Elia'n had detested water even more than the average Delassian, so tub-soaking, needless to say, hadn't formed a part of their life together.

Which reminded her.

"GARDA?"

" _Yes, Anja?"_

"Log a comm to El for me, would you? You can send it if we ever find a beacon."

" _Anja, you know—_ "

"Just Cursed _do_ it, GARDA. I don't want to have this argument again."

" _Of course. Recording."_

Anja sighed and settled back.

"Hey El. Sorry I haven't commed you for a few weeks. It's been kind of busy. Uh, let's see… I told you last time about the intel we got, right? Well, it was spot on. The bastards started in on Corso a few weeks ago. We were closest so we dropped right away. Two other battalions dropped, but they didn't arrive until three days later. Mother Night, those were three _crappy_ days, El. Lost some good people. We lost _Croyton_. I thought he was unkillable. _And_ he owed me money."

"Oh, best story. Do you remember Stancy, from C-Wing? Well, he bought it, but you would have loved it - he went out _awesomely_ , El. They'd hit him bad – most of both arms gone, yeah, I felt for him - and it's obvious he's bleeding out despite the suit restrictors, but he could still run, so he books it amazingly fast right up into one of their _pods_. I have no idea how he didn't get cubed getting there - you know what it's like trying to get close - but he did. And then one second he's on the lip of the entry hole, yelling some really creative and foul stuff like a complete badass and the next he jumps in. He must have triggered his cell halfway down and set off something else, because the whole thing went up like a Mother-Cursed nova. It was _beautiful_ , El. Bought us enough time to fall back and regroup. We'd have been ripped apart if he hadn't pulled that off."

She sat for a moment, lost in thought.

"Nowhere near your kill count, so don't worry. Yours is still the top, Curse you. I— I had an outside chance at matching you though. Intel after Corso indicated that it was the same hiveship that wiped out Holt. I guess I kind of lost it. They had a trace on the ship but no assets to send. So I swiped a Vock and went after them solo."

She sighed. "And I found them, orbiting Pan. Dunno what I was thinking other than I was going to fly that Vock right into their side and blow the core. Punch a big Cursed hole right in their gut. Got pretty close, too. Then one of their heavy turrets got lucky and tagged my starboard engine, right through the shielding. After that I was easy meat, so yeah. Kaboom and I got spaced, El. With no EVA gear, of course."

She laughed. "Yeah, I know, I'm an idiot. But I wasn't exactly expecting to survive the attack. And, to be honest, I'm not sure I did. Things were awfully hazy there for a bit. I have no idea why they didn't pull me in for dinner. Even I've got enough meat to be worth it."

"And now… well, some crazy strange stuff is happening now. I'm not even going to fill you in. Not yet – I need to see how this all pans out. Maybe I'm actually dead and you'll walk through that door in a minute. Maybe you'll stand there and adorably flip out at me about the deadly peril of all this luscious aqua."

"That'd be really nice. Mother Night, I miss you. Every minute of every hour. You know that, right? Wherever you are, you need to know that I miss you. And I love you. Forever and ever, El. Forever and ever."

"Water's cooling off. I'll comm you soon. Dead or not, I think I'm going to have some crazy stuff to tell you."

xxxxx

Elsa started awake when she heard the bathroom door creak open. She was annoyed with herself, she hadn't meant to doze off. But it felt like she'd been going for ages with only snatches of sleep. Apparently it was catching up to her.

Anna gave her another of her little bows. Repressing a smile, Elsa gestured to the other chair and lifted the lid off the plates of food. The soups had been kept warm with little burners, but Anna had eyes only for the stacked tray of sandwiches as she carefully sat down opposite. She was still in her armor, though her face was scrubbed and pink and her hair wet, carefully rebraided into the same intricate patterns as before. Evidently she didn't feel secure enough to dispense with her defenses just yet. Elsa decided not to question.

"Did you enjoy your bathe?"

Anna pulled her eyes away from the food. There was a slightly unfocused look in them for a second. Then she met Elsa's gaze more directly and for the first time gave her a brief but Anna-style smile that reached her eyes. Her reply was emphatic, "Yes, Elsa. Thank you. Estis mirinda! Mi ne havis banon en jaroj." She gave Elsa an apologetic half shrug, "Mi bedaŭras. Gi prenos tempon lerni vian lingvon."

Mystery upon mystery. Elsa couldn't recognize the language that Anna was speaking, which was surprising – she'd mastered four and was variously acquainted with many more. Some words sounded a little familiar from other languages, however – tempon, lerni, lingvon. Time, learn, language? Ah.

"It's alright. We have lots of time. Hopefully it will come back to you quickly."

Again the slightly unfocused look, and then a noncommittal nod.

Looked at objectively, the entire situation was fascinating. Setting aside the issue of lost memories, Anna had had time to master an entirely new language. That didn't happen overnight. That, and her increased age meant that even though to Elsa she'd been gone only an instant, to Anna it might have been several years. Which, on the face of it, was impossible. Damn the language barrier! Elsa had a thousand questions she wanted to ask.

The first order of business, however, was getting some food into her sister. Elsa gestured to the pile of sandwiches. Anna's smile returned as she dipped her head in acknowledgement. She proceeded to load eight sandwiches onto her plate and set to in earnest, attention focused on her food, eating carefully and fastidiously with her armored gloves. She devoured the sandwiches quickly and efficiently, dropping not even a crumb. Elsa could only watch in amazement as the pile vanished. The amount and speed spoke of Anna, but the neatness was entirely new. Her sister's reputation for blast-radius style dining had been firmly established. She'd been known to hit the _chandeliers_ on occasion, the ones ten feet up.

The more she observed, the more confused Elsa became. She had spent her entire life thinking of Anna as her younger sister, as a child. The person before her was about as far from a child as it was possible to be. Scrubbed, with food and warmth returning a healthier tone to her skin, her grey-red hair elaborately braided, there was no other way to describe it - Anna was a breathtakingly beautiful, serious, fully mature adult woman. She emanated strength and purpose. Every movement was controlled, minimal and competent. This person wasn't Anna.

Until she unconsciously brushed some imaginary strands of loose hair back behind her ear. Elsa flashed on five-year old Anna and then Anna at the coronation. The gesture was identical. Suddenly the woman in front of her was incontrovertibly her sister.

When Anna suddenly glanced up, Elsa realized with a jolt that she'd been staring. She hadn't touched her own food at all. She reddened, but her embarrassment was short-lived, slapped away as she was blindsided by the impact of that distant, impersonal gaze. For an instant, aquamarine pinned her and once again fire tore through her entire being, stopping her breath, stopping her heart. She wanted to scream in terror and she wanted it to never ever _ever_ stop.

Then Anna, unaware of what had transpired, returned her attention to her food, releasing Elsa's brain to resume functioning. Her heart was going like a racehorse.

 _Dear Lord, what in the world is happening?_


End file.
